


Uninvited Guests

by Willowsticks



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:51:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowsticks/pseuds/Willowsticks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard finds himself the recipient of some unwanted family attention and begins to loosen up a little - much to the delight of Camille...rated M for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The team was in a jovial mood, returning to the station after closing a case of minor burglary. Dwayne had been left guarding the station and nursing his hangover, but the usual laughing and joking came from Fidel and Camille while Richard was doing his best to ignore them, concentrating instead on not passing out from the heat and humidity. He was desperate to make it back to the station and some cold water, where he could finally take his jacket off, he only hoped that he hadn’t begun to sweat through his shirt. He was therefore the first one to stop on hearing music coming from the station, and was rewarded by the rest of the team walking into him.

“Richard...” Camille was about to begin her chastisement when he held up a hand and shushed her. She was gearing up to give him a dressing down but Richard beat her to it.

“The music,” was all he said by way of a perplexed explanation.

“So? Dwayne always plays music when he’s on his own. You’re not going to discipline him for that are you?” Her voice had taken on an incredulous tone which was ignored by her superior.

“Don’t be ridic...” he stopped realising that she was unintentionally sidetracking him from his original thought. “Just...give me five minutes will you.”

“But Richard...”

“I’m not going to cause any problems ok – just five minutes, I have a feeling”

She nodded confused but let him go watching him jog gently up the steps before turning to Fidel. “A feeling? He’s kidding right?”

He did have a feeling, an email that he had received the previous day, not much to go on, just dropped hints, which he had put down to the usual banter. But what if there was something in it? At the top of the steps, he stopped and put his head through the door. Dwayne barely noticed his presence, his forehead was covered with an ice pack and his eyes were closed. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary so far was the music. It wasn’t the usual laid back rhythm of the Caribbean. It was decidedly European in its nature and while Dwayne didn’t look bothered by the change it was something he clearly wouldn’t have chosen for himself.

Richard stepped further into the station and did another scan. The only parts that he now couldn’t see were his desk and the cells. There was nothing new in this; no one could see his desk from the door. He put his nose in the air and sniffed. Cigarette smoke. He gave a small huff of laughter and ventured to Dwayne’s desk to turn off the radio. That caught his attention. Dwayne’s eyes flickered open and gave his superior a cheeky grin. Richard returned it with rather a more shrewd look and motioned for him to leave the station. With a grudging and laboured effort Dwayne took his leave, he had been rather hoping to see the chief’s reaction.

A distinct thump coming from around the corner confirmed his suspicions. He bit back a smile and took a step forward.

A man in his mid 30s with green eyes and unruly dark hair, beginning to recede slightly at the temple, was staring back at him nonchalantly. His was leaning back in Richard’s chair, his hands behind his head, his feet on Richard’s desk, and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. His smile grew wider by way of a greeting.

They stayed looking at each other for a few moments, one grinning inanely and the other trying to look stern but failing miserably. It was Richard who spoke first. “Your feet are on my desk.” He was roundly ignored, so Richard rolled his eyes and tried again. “What are you doing here Jamie?”

“If I told you I missed you, would you believe me?”

“There’s always a first time.”

“How about if I told you I wanted a free holiday?”

Richard bit back another smile. “I take it from that comment that I have the pleasure of your company for at least a week?”

“Problem?” He took a drag on the cigarette.

“That depends on how you behave while you’re here.” He sighed resignedly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re not paying for your own accommodation.”

“Why would I pay for a room when my big brother lives on the island?”

“Because I live in a shack and have a double bed! I told you that ages ago – you never listen to me!”

“I listen! I just figured you could take the sofa and I’d have the bed”

Richard narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have a sofa, pillock.”

“I guess we’re sharing a bed then.”

“Floor.”

“Ok. For half the week. Then we switch.”

“It’s not a negotiation Jamie. I have work. You have the floor. If you don’t like it go to a hotel. Look I don’t really see what the problem is, you should be used to sleeping on the floor.” He muttered under his breath, “Army Rat.”

“Yeah? Better than Filth.”

“You watch your language.”

“You started it.” He huffed a little more considering his options. “Fine. But if I bring a girl back, I get the bed.”

Richard’s expression at this statement twisted immediately into one of revulsion. “Quite aside from the idea of you sharing sheets with me being disgusting, it is totally inappropriate to bring a random girl back to my house! And what the hell happened to Jules?” He was spluttering now, not letting his brother get a word in edgeways. “And I’m not having this conversation with you. If in the unlikely event you have messed up your life and you need to you yourself a girl then you sort it out, but you don’t bring her back to mine.”

Jamie was finding it difficult to contain his glee. “Relax Richard. I was only winding you up. I’d forgotten how easy it is. It’s like you’ve never been away.” Richard harrumphed and Jamie took his feet down from the desk taking another drag. “You look crap by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You look as though you’re about to have a heart attack or something. You need to loosen up. Wear something a little lighter before you die from the heat.”

“There is nothing lighter, I don’t exactly have an extensive wardrobe and I doubt I would cool down even if I ran naked through the streets. It’s too bloody hot.”

“Then take your jacket off, roll up your sleeves and get rid of your tie...at least until you’ve cooled down a little.”

“Fine.” Richard took both off immediately, feeling the small black spots disappearing from his eyes as he did so and his mood changing infinitesimally for the better.

“Better?” He was rewarded by an almost imperceptible nod. “Good. You know I did bring some of your “holiday” clothes with me.” He used the customary air quotes with a sense of irony, knowing that the only holiday Richard really liked was a cold one and that the clothes he had brought with him would most likely stay in his case.

“Oh?”

“Just some extra shirts.”

“Right....”

“And some shorts and trunks. I thought we’d go to the beach...”

Richard cut him short. “Thanks but I really don’t think there’ll be time. My work....” He trailed off.

Jamie rolled his eyes, took a final drag then leant forward and stubbed his cigarette out on a stack of post it notes, knowing that it would annoy his brother. He was right and grinned naughtily at the scowl that he received. He went back to studying Richard. Then got up, sat on the desk and swung his legs around in one smooth motion so that he was no longer behind the desk but sitting on the front of it, hearing Richard muttering something about him being a child. He scooted up a little to ensure that there was enough space for Richard to perch next to him, then watched as he took his place.

“You know, you’re hair’s pretty terrible too. The least you could do is stick it up a bit.”

His reward for his bluntness was a glare. “It doesn’t stay up because of the heat. Do you honestly think I like looking like a monk?” He ran his hands through his hair at the front, trying in vain to put some life back into it and succeeded a little, probably due to the amount of sweat that was on his brow. “Anyway, I don’t know why you’re laughing, this’ll be you in a couple of years.” His brother looked suitably chastened.

They sat in silence for a while and Richard knew that time was running out and that the team would need to sate their curiosity soon. He wasn’t really sure what he wanted to talk to his brother about but knew that he wasn’t ready to share him with the others just yet. He pushed his hands deep in his pockets and searched around for some small talk.

“How’s mum?”

“Alright I guess. She misses her favourite boy.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Honestly, the way she goes on about you, you’d think she only has one child.”

“Well, only one that counts, I suppose.”

“Oi.” His brother tried to nudge him off the desk. Richard nudged him back and knew that it was the closest that either of them was going to come to admitting that they were both pleased to see each other.

“You know, seeing as you’re still not seeing anyone, I thought that you could introduce me to some of the locals, and help get me out of trouble if the need arises.”

“No. No trouble. Not here Jamie, it’s too small. The last thing I need is you leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you while I have to clean everything up.”

“I’ll just have to go it alone then.” Jamie sighed theatrically and fished a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, opened it and tapped one up for him then offered the pack to Richard. “Want one?”

Richard gave him an exasperated look. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know what. Stop being annoying.”

Jamie giggled like a school boy and put his cigarette away. “Richie, has anyone told you that giving up smoking has turned you into a real grump?”

“Yes, you have. Frequently. And you aren’t allowed to smoke in here.” He lowered his voice and looked a little embarrassed. “Can you also do me a favour and stop calling me Richie? Just around here.”

“Why?”

“Because, I don’t want everyone to know, it’s embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?”

“It just is ok?” He wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that he didn’t want his team teasing him over such an intimate detail, well actually just one member of his team.

“Fine, but it’s going to be trickier when the others get here.”

“What others?”

“You didn’t honestly think it was just me did you?”

“You are joking aren’t you?”

“Erm, well it was sort of meant to be a surprise.”

“Shit. You know I’m not going to be able to take holiday at a day’s notice don’t you.”

“Ah, I’m sure you’ll work something out...They’re not coming until tomorrow anyway, so you have a day and then you’re rid of me. Contrary to what you think of me I have actually booked my own hotel room.” Jamie let him digest the news a little then said hopefully, “pick you up later then?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. Well then, I’ll leave these for you,” grinning, he put the cigarette packet on Richard’s desk, “and I’ll see you later...”

And with that he walked out calling a cheery “Morning!” to Camille and the others who had decided to inspect the quiet coming from the station for themselves. All three stood looking at Richard who was trying desperately to stop the blush that was already spreading to his cheeks under Camille’s steady gaze.


	2. Chapter 2

Dwayne had already clued them in a little but she made a sign to the others not to crowd him, knew that they wouldn’t get answers from him if he thought that they were interrogating him.

“Who was that?”

She tried to sound as casual as possible. Camille already knew from Dwayne’s deduction but wanted him to confirm it, given that in the five minutes that Richard had been gone he had changed completely. She could hardly believe that the man leaning against the desk in front of her was the same one who had walked into the office a few moments ago. Now that his jacket and tie had been discarded, he looked more relaxed, more confident and in control, less swamped by life. His hair was also different, it was no longer pulled forward over his forehead but had been pushed back, making him look younger. The change highlighted his cheekbones, his jaw line, it drew her attention to his lips, made his eyes look brighter. She suddenly felt very hot, and put her hand to the back of her neck to lift her hair. The action was noticed by Richard.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, and he dropped his gaze again. She was embarrassed that he had caught her flustered by his new appearance and removed her hand. She was also confused at how seeing so little of his skin could have such an effect on her, it was the first time she had seen his arms, his shirt sleeves having had been rolled up, and was surprised by how toned they were. She had heard from the boys that he wasn’t in bad shape and was beginning to get a glimpse of that from the small amount of his chest that she could see thanks to the top two buttons of his shirt being undone. She was willing to bet that he had only meant to undo his top one, but then it was so unlike him to be in any state of undress that perhaps it had been on purpose. The way his slim fit shirt clung to his body wasn’t doing much to dispel her theory either. She batted away his concern with practised indifference. “I probably need some water. Richard?” She waited until she had his attention again, “who was that?”

“Jamie.” He tried to be dismissive, but realised that she was still staring at him waiting for him to elaborate. “My brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“Clearly.” He was embarrassed by her questioning, his hand moving to push his hair back again.

She willed herself not to trail her eyes down towards his lips. “Ok. It’s just you haven’t really mentioned him. Actually, you’ve never mentioned him.” He gave her a look which queried why that would be a problem, and she bit her tongue. She wanted to ask him why the hell he hadn’t mentioned his brother before now, but knew that if she went down that route she’d never get any additional information out of him. Instead she said, “he looks a lot like you.”

“Yes, a lot of people say that.”

“Is he staying long?”

“I think about a week.”

“Oh.” She leant against the wall. “What’s he like?” Richard was clearly struggling to find words to describe his brother. She tried again. “Is he like you?”

“Um. I suppose so. Sort of. Actually, probably not, no.” He was stumbling, then suddenly seemed to remember where he was and who he was talking to. His hand went to this throat, presumably to straighten his tie and realised with a jolt that he wasn’t wearing it. His hand slid further down and his nervousness turned into panic as he realised that two of his shirt buttons were undone. He seemed lost for a few moments before frantically patting his pockets in a desperate attempt to try and locate it whilst retreating behind his desk, putting as much space between him and Camille as possible.

When he had finally found it he cleared his throat, “um, well we should probably get back to work,” and Camille knew that she would get no more out of him.

***

For Richard, the end of the day couldn’t come soon enough and for once he was ready and waiting outside the station as soon as work ended, not before stuffing the packet of cigarettes deep into his pocket, hoping frantically that none of his team mates had seen them. He had actually walked a little way from the station, away from the prying eyes that he knew were watching him, waiting for another glimpse of his brother. He walked towards him as soon as he saw he was coming up the hill, signalling for him to turn around and go back the way he had come and fell in step with him.

“I see the jacket and tie made a reappearance then?” Richard didn’t say anything in the vain hope that he would be able to keep them. “Give them here.”

With a sigh Richard slipped the jacket off his shoulders, and loosened his tie, being careful to only open the top button of his shirt as he did so. He wasn’t going to relinquish his clothing quite so easily this time and only hoped that Jamie wasn’t going to make him undress in public. Not here. In London, or to be honest, anywhere where he could blend in with the crowd he was happy to defer to his brother’s demands, but here people would stare. They would laugh at his pathetic attempts to try and blend in with the crowd. It was too small an island, there were too few people, he was too different to everyone. He didn’t have anyone who would accept him for who he was. Not for the first time did he wish for the anonymity of London again, a city where no one would give him a second glance.

He was in luck. It seemed to satisfy Jamie who confiscated the jacket, glancing as he did so at Richard’s sleeves which were still firmly around his wrists. He seemed to realise that he was fighting a losing battle though as he made no mention for him to roll them up. It was a short walk to La Kaz and there were almost at the bar by the time that Richard had divested and handed his clothing over to Jamie. 

***

Camille had intended on staying at the station to do some additional work, but pen in hand and staring at her growing pile of paperwork she had found herself increasingly thinking of the two Poole boys. She couldn’t deny that over the past few months she had found herself growing increasingly attracted to Richard, in spite of his attempts to push her away. On his initial arrival she had found him to be grumpy, no worse than that, downright disagreeable. He was difficult, ill tempered and argumentative. He had initially made no attempt to integrate with his colleagues or to even make friends, seemingly going out of his way to be rude to them. She had viewed him as a pathetic shadow of a man, wedded to his work, too afraid to live life, fearful that it might bring about the disapproval of those around his whose opinion he seemingly neither wanted or cared for.

But gradually, as she had learnt more about him, she had found her opinions changing. Beneath his cantankerous shell lay a man of many depths. He was kind and sweet but inherently shy, preferring to hide behind a caricature of reserved Englishness, dismissing people’s compliments with modesty, retreating from them with embarrassment rather than learning to trust new friendships. And no matter how much he professed to dislike the community he lived and worked in, it was clear that he genuinely cared. He always thought of others first, but just was careful not to let them know.

She knew his trouble was that he was deeply insecure, and had made every attempt to prove to him that he could trust her, rely on her, confide in her, and she had thought that she was gradually breaking through judging by those smiles that he occasionally flashed her way setting her heart a flutter. But she had also seen that when the two boys had been together Richard had blossomed in a way that he had never done with her. He had an air of self confidence that she hadn’t noticed before and it had given her hope.

In many ways Jamie, at least at face value, was the man that she had always wanted Richard to be –at a glance he looked to be fun, outgoing, and charming, everything that Richard was not. Perhaps she should give up her ridiculous pursuit of him, she couldn’t ever imagine Richard changing and couldn’t even be sure that he would ever see her as anything more than a friend. In total contrast to his brother he seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, almost worn out by the hand that life had dealt him. Perhaps someone like Jamie was a better match for her. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to feel his lips against hers, to run her fingers through his hair, feel the weight of him against her...she lost herself in her fantasy for a moment and when she came back to it she realised that it was no longer Jamie that she was kissing, but Richard, it was always Richard. She sighed and smiled to herself. Apparently, she now had no control over her thoughts either.

She pushed her quickening pulse to the back of her mind, knew she had to stop this. It was ludicrous. He was the same grumpy man he had always been, changing his clothes and hair slightly weren’t going to make any difference to that. Hurling her pen to one side she got up and headed to the door.


	3. Chapter 3

“Richard! You look relaxed...” He shifted uncomfortably under a Bordey gaze for the second time that day. She smiled teasingly at him then turned her head to take in the other leaner, more bronzed, smiling Poole boy. “And who is this?” She knew exactly who it was, Camille had snuck out during the afternoon to put a call through to her mother and tell her the gossip.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, debating on whether he had enough time to make a run for it before realising that there was no way he was going to be able to get out of introducing them to each other. “Catherine, this is my brother, Jamie. Jamie this is Catherine.” At least that was his job done. He knew, given Jamie’s track record that all he had to do now was sit back and let the charm offensive start. He let his mind wander as Jamie smiled openly at Catherine, almost completely winning her over in the first second of their introduction.

He wished he had more patience with small talk, but the fact of the matter was that he just couldn’t be bothered any more. It had been different once. He used to be fun, or he thought he had, but he couldn’t help feeling that that was a long time ago. Things had changed. People were fickle, he knew that now, what was the point in trying to impress them when they came to the same conclusion about you regardless of your charm? He zoned back in on the conversation just in time to hear the punch line of some joke or story from their childhood which Catherine was laughing at uproariously. Great he thought, more ammunition for her to use against me.

Jamie sensed Richard’s unease and changed tact. “Just a couple of beers then please Catherine, we’ve got quite a bit to catch up on, but perhaps we can talk later?”

Catherine opened the fridge and took out two beers smiling as she handed them over. “On the house. A welcome present.”

“Thank you!” Jamie winked at her.

Catherine shrugged off his thanks with a wave and the two boys made their way to a table at the back of the bar with Richard muttering, “free bloody beer? I never get free beer. That’s outrageous. I’ve been here for years and never once been offered anything on the house – even tea - and that’s essentially hot water and a tea bag. Doesn’t exactly break the bank does it?”

Jamie let his brother tire himself up before saying, “drink your beer.”

Richard did as he was told then looked his brother in the eye. “What exactly is it that you want to talk to me about.”

Jamie at least had the grace to look slightly bashful at the fact that he was so easy to read. “It’s Jules.”

“You haven’t done anything stupid have you? I thought you were joking before, you know about the other girls?”

“Of course I was joking you idiot. I’d never do that.” Richard raised an eyebrow, “well, not to Jules.”

Richard nodded. “So what is it then?”

“I was um...well I was thinking of asking her to marry me.”

There was silence.

“Thinking?”

“Well actually, I’ve kind of made up my mind. What do you think?”

“What do you mean what do I think? It’s great, Jules is great. What else did you expect me to say?” Richard gave his brother a rare full on smile.

“I thought you might try and talk me out of it...”

“No, I think I know a lost cause when I see one. I knew the second you introduced her to me.” He took another swig of his beer. “She’s the only woman who’s ever been able to put you in your place.”

Jamie seemed lost in happy memories.

“What do you need from me anyway – my blessing?”

“Well I don’t need it, but it would be good to know that you think it’s a good idea....”

Richard dismissed the last comment. In his opinion it didn’t need discussing. He liked Jules and he liked that his brother was happy when he was with her. “Have you got a ring?”

“Not yet. I was wondering if I could have a family one?”

“Which one?”

“Alice’s.”

Richard huffed. “God, take it. I never want to see either of them again.”

Jamie nodded silently then tried to lighten the mood a bit, “I um, thought you might say that, so I brought it with me...”

“You cheeky....”

Jamie cut in, “you just said you didn’t want it!”

“Yeah, I didn’t realise that you were intending on doing it so quickly! I suppose I thought you’d use the other one though, I mean it’s not like I can ever have it again!”

“Yeah I know, but after what you did with it, it’s probably cursed!”

Richard huffed and tried to look angry, not quite able to pull it off, he was too pleased at the fact that he was finally able to have a drink with his brother. He took another sip, finishing his beer. “So I guess it’s not just family coming out this week then?”

“Family, plus Jules. That’s why I wanted to come out a day early. Spend some time with you, you know, before the whole things kicks off...”

“You mean you wanted to manipulate me into giving up a family heirloom before carelessly ditching me for someone else. Don’t worry it sounds familiar.” He pulled himself together, “but if you get me another beer and I might try and forget what’s just happened.”

Jamie smiled, only too happy to oblige and bounded from the table towards the bar and back again in double quick time, seemingly excited by the news he had just discovered. He had barely time to sit down before he started talking again. “So apparently Catherine is Camille’s mother,”

Richard was beginning to feel hot again, despite his missing suit jacket. “yes...

“and Camille should be in the bar soon....”

“Oh right....”

“She seems nice.”

“Camille or Catherine?”

“Catherine. I haven’t met Camille yet. Is she nice too? She looks nice.” Richard feigned disinterest, suddenly becoming captivated by the label on his bottle of beer. “Richard?” Richard’s head came reluctantly back up to meet his brother’s stare. “Is Camille nice?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“You suppose so? It’s just that you’ve mentioned her quite a few times in emails.” Richard was rubbing his forehead with his hand. “I suppose it’s a coincidence that you forgot to mention that she’s pretty hot?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” He relented a little and dropped his voice. “Because nothing will ever happen, so what’s the point in thinking about it?”

“Why would nothing happen?”

“Putting aside the fact that I don’t want to go down that route again, you said it yourself. She is insanely beautiful.”

Jamie smiled at Richard’s upgrading of Camille’s attractiveness. “So, you don’t even want to try?”

“What’s the point? What could possibly happen between the two of us?”

“Anything and nothing. Depends on whether you try.”

Richard cradled his new drink. “I don’t think I can go through it again Jamie. Quite aside from everything else, I just don’t have the time for it. And if I do decide I want to risk it, the likelihood is that I get shot down and have to move back to London.

“Isn’t that what you want?”

Richard shrugged. “I don’t know anymore.”

“What if she doesn’t shoot you down?”

“It’s against regulations and work comes first.” The shutters had come down again. “Look, can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. Anything you like.”


	4. Chapter 4

By the time that Camille reached the bar both Jamie and Richard were already on their third beers.

“Bonsoir Maman.”

“Bonsoir Camille. Have you met the new boy?”

“Jamie? No not yet. What’s he like?”

“He’s sweet and charming. Not much like our Inspector.”

“Mama...Richard can be sweet. He’s just shy.” Her mother raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know him.”

“And you do? Camille, he’s a closed book. I don’t know why you stick up for him so much.” Camille shook her head and her mother sighed. She had initially found her daughter’s crush on her boss quite sweet. However as the months went by and Camille’s feelings towards Richard had showed no sign of abating she had begun to feel a certain amount of anxiety on her daughters behalf. Richard, in her opinion was not a good match for Camille, he would never be able to offer her the love that she needed, and no amount of blind dates were going to make her see that. She needed another option and was beginning to think that Jamie might be able to provide a solution. If Camille could spend some time with both of them perhaps the total contrast between them would make her realise that it was time to move on to someone more suitable.

“You know...it might be polite to show Jamie some of the sights on the island...Richard probably doesn’t know them as well as you do. You could get to know him better.”

“Maman, I’m sure that Richard will want to spend time with his brother without me.”

“Perhaps. And perhaps you and Jamie could go on your own...”

“Maman!” Camille was indignant and also embarrassed that her mother had had the same thought as she had had earlier in the evening: that Jamie might be a better match for her.

“Um, sorry to interrupt but could I have another couple of beers please Catherine.” Apparently Richard had deemed this the perfect time to arrive at the bar for a refill. Of course he had. Camille shot her mother an annoyed look for choosing the exact moment to try and set her up with Jamie when his brother was standing behind her. Hopefully he hadn’t heard their last exchange, but judging from the expression on his face she was pretty sure that he had. They stood facing each other awkwardly, while Catherine disappeared for more beer; he wishing that Catherine would hurry up, and she wishing that she could find a way to turn back time so that he wouldn’t think that she was interested in his brother. When Catherine finally came back, he collected the beers in silence, pausing to give her the briefest of nods and headed back to his table.

***

“That looked awkward.” Richard shot him a quizzical look. “That is Camille at the bar right?” The comment had been designed as gently ribbing but on closer inspection he could see that Richard had lost all of the joviality of earlier. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Jeez, you have got it bad.”

Richard shook his head. “I said I’m fine!”

“Good. So nothing bad or embarrassing happened at the bar that might mean you don’t want to see Camille again for a while.”

“No...why?”

“Because she’s coming over here.”

“Oh God!” he managed to pull himself together enough to wipe the look of terror off his face as she slid into the chair.

She looked between them for a few moments drinking in the similarity between them despite the age difference before her gaze finally landed on the younger of the two. “So you must be Jamie.”

“Indeed. And you must be Camille!” They sat grinning at each other, delighted that they had finally met, each feeling like they had uncovered a secret that Richard had been hiding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, but I’m guessing from your expression that you had no idea that I actually existed.”

She winced slightly. “Sorry, would it help if I told you I am very glad that you do?”

“Perhaps.”

Richard wriggled uncomfortably in his chair and frowned. He was used to Camille flirting with everyone but wasn’t entirely comfortable with her doing it with his brother.

“So how long are you here for?”

“Ah, sadly just a week. It’s pretty much all we could get off together.

“Together?” She looked at Richard positively gleeful as she guessed what was coming.

Richard sighed, “apparently my family have deemed it imperative that they come and embarrass me for a week. Nowhere is safe anymore Camille, even my being halfway around the world can’t stop them.”

“Come on they can’t be that bad...”

“Yes they can.” She shot him an exasperated look.

Jamie chipped in. “No really they can. You’ve never met our mother.”

“And God willing never will.”

Camille pouted. “That seems very unfair, you’ve met my mother.”

Richard leant forward. “Trust me when I say Camille that your mother has nothing on ours. She is positively well balanced and actually thinks most of the time before opening her mouth, well most of the time.”

“Oh so you and your mother have something in common then.” She knew she was being petulant but was beginning to feel a little like Richard was embarrassed of her. Why didn’t he want her to meet his mother?

He glared at her, confused at her sudden abruptness. He usually had to do something wrong to warrant this sort of behaviour from her. He thought through their conversation but was pretty sure that they were on safe ground. She ignored him and turned back to his brother. “So what are you up to tomorrow?”

It seemed strange to see the lopsided smile that she so loved on Richard on another man’s face, it seemed to come more easily to him but was no less disarming. “Trying to get Richard on to the beach, any tips?”

“Don’t bother...”

Jamie sucked in air through his teeth “little harsh. But I think we can do better than that. I might be in with more of a chance if you were around.”

Camille blushed, and then flushed even deeper when she realised she was angry at herself for the first reaction, she wasn’t sure if he was asking for him or Richard. “Really? I’d have thought that would have put him off more than anything. I think he’s terrified of me seeing him in anything other than a suit. Oh and his pyjamas!”

“His pyjamas?” Jamie feigned shock but knew the story already, if she had seen him in any other capacity other than an early pick up for work there certainly wouldn’t have been pyjamas involved. She blushed again then laughed before they were interrupted by an aggrieved tone, “I am still here you know!”

Camille lowered her voice conspiratorially, “you know I don’t think he actually owns any trunks.”

“Yeah, I thought that might be the case, don’t worry, I’ve brought him some with me...”

“Which I’m not wearing.”

Richard was adamant but somewhat cowed when Jamie glared at him from above his beer. He muttered again “I don’t want to.”

She teased him. “All things in life are sent to try us Richard.”

“I know that, it just seems that I get more than my fair share of them.”

“Oh stop being grumpy!”

“I’m not being grumpy.”

“Yes, you are.”

She looked over at Jamie who was smirking quietly into his beer and decided that it might be time to leave them alone before Richard’s mood turned sour. She didn’t want her invitation rescinded, whoever it had come from. She got up and thought she saw a look of disappointment cross Richard’s face briefly. “I think Maman might need some help at the bar, I’ll leave you two to catch up but um... hopefully see you tomorrow?”

She was amused to find that both men had stood up as she left the table, Richard nodded his ascent at her comment which had been directed at him, the fleeting look of disappointment already vanished from his face. She was aware that she had spent too much time looking at him already, she had to turn to Jamie before he noticed, she did so and found him beaming at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

“’Til tomorrow then.”


	5. Chapter 5

She shouldn’t be there. She knew that, but she had been in such a hurry to see him that she had pushed open his kitchen door calling his name as she came through into his bedroom and living room. The kitchen hadn’t seemed any different to usual – there a cereal box had been left out on the side and there was a single bowl in the sink but otherwise there was no sign that the shack was had been occupied by two instead of its usual one. His bedroom and living room were another matter. The room looked as though a bomb had gone off it in. The two nearby chairs that Richard usually sat in after work had been shoved to one side and the television had been left on and had been dragged closer to the bed, she could only guess that Jamie had refused to watch tv on such uncomfortable seating, she didn’t blame him. One of the bedside tables held the other empty cereal bowl and she wrinkled her nose when she realised it had been turned into a makeshift ashtray. Well, that would explain the stale cigarette smell. A chair, reduced to bare framework, now held an open overnight bag, clothes spewing out and on to the floor. Cushions were scattered as a makeshift bed and a sleeping bag was scrunched up on top of them. Last night’s clothes were accompanying it close by. She did another scan and realised that an effort had been made to make the bed, although it had since been sat on and another neater pile of folded clothing was on the other chair. She smiled at the orderly pile, it wasn’t hard to work out who the mess belonged to.

She suddenly felt like an intruder. They obviously weren’t there and as the seconds ticked by she felt more and more uncomfortable. She was about to pick her way over the various articles strewn on the floor and return the way she had come when she heard them coming along the beach, laughing at some unheard joke. She decided to wait, it would be fun to see the look on Richard’s face when he surveyed her in the midst of the mess that his brother had created. 

She moved closer to the window to watch and was surprised to see that they were both in trunks, and they looked damp. Had they been swimming? Clearly Richard had had time for the beach after all. She stood drinking in the first sight she had seen of his legs. They were pale, but then what was she expecting? She was pleased to find that hidden underneath the thick suit material he always wore, his legs were toned and she came to the conclusion that Richard probably hadn’t always had the aversion to sport that he now professed to have. His shorts were plain blue and stopped mid thigh, the style suited him, more than regular board shorts would have done. She continued her assessment of his clothing as her gaze shifted up over his shorts and on to his bottom. She had only been able to admire that particular part of his anatomy a handful of times, being careful to ensure that no one else was around and that he wasn’t facing her, he was usually looking for something under his desk or furniture. She let her gaze roam now, aware that there was no one around to stop her, it looked muscular and firm and not for the first time did she find herself wondering what it would feel like to be able to run her hands over him, pulling him into her. She continued upwards and realised that he was still in shirtsleeves, well some things never change she thought, but it didn’t look like one of this work shirts, even though it was white. It looked finer and lighter, like linen. He looked cool, at ease with himself and for the first time she realised that he might be relaxed. She was beginning to wish that it was her on the beach with him. Why did he continually refuse to relax with her? She moved back from the window, out of sight as they got closer. 

“Richard slow down, why are you in such a hurry to get back.” 

Richard slowed his pace down, but didn’t change direction still heading for the shack. “Why can’t we stay here a bit longer? It’s not as if we’re miles away from home...

“I’m burning.” 

“Well it’s probably the years you spent on holiday wearing factor 50 – your body’s never been able to acclimatize!” He laughed openly then added rather unhelpfully. “You are possibly the whitest man I’ve ever seen.” 

Richard huffed a little and carried on his walk. 

“Come on Richie, roll down your sleeves if you’re burning. I don’t understand why we have to go back.” His brother looked at him, willing him to understand, and not to mock him mercilessly for it. Jamie finally cotton on. “Oh. Sorry.” Then, decided not to let it go so easily and made a grab for his brother’s hair to mess it up, exposing more of the quickly reddening scalp than was already on show.

“Get off!” Then when he continued, he retaliated, laughingly shoving Jamie in the chest and trying to put him in a headlock, “go easy alright? I hardly have any left...”

Jamie retaliated by trying to trip Richard up and bought himself a precious few seconds to put distance between the two of them and get out of harm’s way. They stood watching each other warily, grinning at each other, before Jamie reached into his pocket and threw over a small tube. “It's not factor 50, but it should do...”

“No, I’m fine thanks, I’ll just get my own.” 

Jamie frowned at him, “why don’t you just use mine...?” then stopped as he finally cottoned on. “Oh my God, you want to clean don’t you? 

Richard raised an eyebrow, “No! I just want...you know...to tidy up a little...”

“Jesus, you have seriously bad OCD!”

“Shut up!” Jamie continued his mocking using the anally retentive voice he only ever used for his brother. “No I just want....in case um...mum and dad come around...”

“You mean in case Camille comes round...”

“Why would I need to clean on the off chance that Camille might come around?” 

“I don’t know, probably because she said last night that she might and now you’re paranoid that she’s going to see you living like a slob?”

“The only thing her visit this morning would prove is the fact that you are an exceptionally messy roommate.”

Camille grinned to herself then realised the absurdity of her situation. She had effectively broken into her boss’ house, even if he had technically left the door unlocked. Embarrassed she moved away from the veranda doors and stepped quietly back through the debris, through to the kitchen. She would have to time her entry to the house to perfection if she was going to try and catch them as they came back from the beach. She didn’t want them to feel like she was spying on them but she also wanted to see Richard’s face as she surveyed him standing in amongst the mess. She could hear their voices recede into the distance until they became undistinguishable murmurs. 

The conversation continued outside, unaware that their eavesdropper had now left. “Stop trying to change the subject. Why won’t you just admit to yourself the possibility that you might like her? It’s pretty obvious that you only have to think about the way she was talking to you last night to know that.”

“She talks to everyone like that.”

“Really? She smoulders with everyone she comes into contact with does she?” 

“Yes everyone. She even spoke to you like that last night if you remember...”

Jamie did remember but also knew that there hadn’t been anything behind it other than a clumsy attempt to initiate spending some additional time with Richard and his family. To get to know them better. “She was just being kind Richard.”

“I know. But she’s kind to everyone. It’s confusing.”

“So you do think she might like you?” 

“No. I mean, I’m not sure. I’m pretty sure that she does like me, just not in the way that you mean.” Jamie didn’t say anything letting Richard continue in his own time. “I don’t really know how to describe it....She knows I’m a complete idiot 90% of the time and she still seems to want to spend time with me, and I have no idea why. All I do know is that no one has made this much effort to get to know me for ages. And all I can think of is how rude I am to her the whole time, and selfish. I shout at her even when things aren’t her fault just to vent my frustration, and yes she gets grumpy at me but it never seems to matter, because everything always goes back to normal afterwards. And I don’t want to feel what I feel for her at the moment because she’s basically the only proper friend I have here, the only proper friend that I’ve had for a while so I don’t want to mess it up.” Richard had been speaking to the floor, but looked up and saw that Jamie was regarding him with a mix of compassion and friendship. 

“Richie, I’ve seen the way you look at her. And if I’ve seen the way you look at her then she has too. You might be great at hiding it from everyone else on this island but you work opposite her all day, sooner or later the facade is going to slip and she’ll know, and I’m guessing it’s already happened. And if she doesn’t know already then she probably will when the others get out here. They know you too well for you to lie to them.” 

Richard nodded. “So basically you’re telling me that if I don’t make some sort of a move on Camille by the end of the week then one of you will tell her.” 

“I didn’t say that explicitly, but you know what Lucie’s like. As soon as she gets one whiff of romance she’ll start playing cupid whether it’s any of her business or not. You can either do it on her terms or on yours.” 

Richard creased up his forehead in frustration then looked at his brother in desperation. “I’m not even sure how to do things on my terms anymore. I feel stuck, like if I try and do anything to change now then she won’t think its me anymore and she won’t like me. It’s like I’m too embarrassed to change without her saying that it’s ok. And if I do change and manage to ask her out this is still presuming that she won’t run a mile.”

“Ok, presuming she says no when you ask her out – what then.” 

“Then I curl up into a corner and die a very slow and painful death from starvation and embarrassment.” 

“Or....”

“Or I move back to London...”

“...Which you’ve been wanting to do for ages.” Richard shook his head in disagreement. “Richard, you can’t spend the rest of your life watching from the sidelines. If you try and you fail, it means it wasn’t meant to be and you can get on with your life.”

“But I’ll lose a friend”

“If she’s that good a friend, you won’t lose her. You’ll probably avoid each other for a week then things will go back to normal.” 

They had reached the steps of the veranda when they were interrupted by the sound of the kitchen door slamming. The two men looked at each other quickly as they heard her call out “Hello?” They both scrambled to their feet a plan already formulated wordlessly between them as Jamie dived to the kitchen in an effort to block Camille’s path into the rest of the house unaware that she had already seen the mess. Richard behind him made a frantic effort to righten the furniture and throw all smaller items under the bed, all the while listening to Jamie make infuriating small talk trying to stall her. The whole process took approximately 30 seconds and by the time Camille had forced herself through the small doorway Richard was perched uncomfortably on his desk slightly out of breath but otherwise pleased that the room no longer resembled a hovel even if it wasn’t quite perfect. 

She glanced around the room barely able to register her surprise at the change and her annoyance at the fact that she could no longer tease him. He gaze came to rest on Richard. “Hi.” 

“Hello” he squirmed a little, realising with a jolt that he wasn’t wearing his usual attire. He flushed a little, deepening the light tan that the morning outside had already marked on his skin. 

She realised he was uncomfortable and tried to placate him. “You look good with a little bit of colour.”

He flushed even deeper and Jamie came to his rescue, popping his head from the kitchen, “you’re lucky we were here, we only came back for a couple of minutes.”

“Where have you been” she addressed her question to Richard. 

“On the beach.” He looked embarrassed. 

“And you’re on your way back?” She didn’t wait for Richard’s answer, “perfect, I was planning on spending some time at the beach today, do you mind if I come too?” 

Jamie was now standing behind her. “No, that’s great. Come on, I want to go for another swim.” He was already steering her out of the door. 

Richard made a last ditch attempt to dissuade her calling after Jamie, “I don’t think Camille has her swim things,” then addressing Camille directly, “maybe you should go home and we can meet you later?”

She was almost at the door when she called behind her, “I always wear them under my clothes, I’ll just strip them off when I’m nearer the sea.” 

He didn’t follow her immediately, the thought of her taking her clothes off in front of him was seemingly too much and he appeared to be rooted to the spot while he digested her latest news.   
After a few moments he sighed gently and propelled himself off the desk following both Camille and Jamie at a more sedate pace. The rest of the day was going to be difficult.


	6. Chapter 6

Richard had been right. The rest of the day had been hell, but the most pleasant and wonderful version of hell that he had ever experienced, well to begin with. They had walked and talked until they had felt the heat and decided to cool off in the sea. He had had to endure and enjoy the sight of her slowly undoing the buttons on her shirt revealing her blue bikini top. It was the one he had only seen once before when he had thought her a suspect in his first murder case on the island. He had been too preoccupied back them to fully admire her, treating her only as a suspect, and yet the vision of her wearing next to nothing had been indelibly printed on his mind ever since, unable to be erased no matter how hard he tried.

Trying not to be too obvious in his observation of her he watched as she let the breeze catch the now open material billowing it out behind her for a few moments before she helped it flutter off on to the sand below with a relaxed shrug of her shoulders. He then watched with a mixture of fear and anticipation as her hands moved to the waistband of her very short shorts. He got the distinct impression as she wiggled herself out and away from them that she had exaggerated her movements deliberately for him, bending at the waist and standing slightly on her tip toes to help them join the shirt on the floor, kicking them away from her with a flick of her foot, and was grateful that Jamie had gone into the water before both of them, wanting to keep the memory for himself. She was now standing in an even briefer pair of bikini bottoms and he was barely able to tear his eyes away from her. He suddenly felt very hot.

She finally looked up and purposefully caught his eye, smiling recklessly at him with an expression that read quite plainly that it was now his turn to do the same.

He made vague gestures towards the water and stuttered that he would join her in a minute.

She pouted but understood that he was embarrassed, there would still be plenty of time for her to look when he was actually in the water, and after. Getting his wet shirt back on after a swim was not going to be an easy task. She jogged a few steps to the water's edge the plunged in, the water taking her breath away a little. She waded out still further until she was almost treading water, then turned hoping to see Richard struggling out of his own shirt. However she was surprised to find the beach empty, the only sign of him ever having been there, were a pair of shoes and a shirt. She smiled when she realised that in his haste he hadn't bothered to fold it. She looked back to the sea and could see him a little way away from her, the water already covering his chest. She had missed him. She bit back an annoyed smile, rolled her eyes and turned on to her back kicking languidly out, making her way over to him slowly.

"That was quick!"

He raised his eyebrows cheekily at her, the feeling of being submerged had given him new courage, even if the water was completely clear. He felt less self conscious than usual. His tone matched his mood. "You should be grateful I can't accuse you of ogling."

"I thought that was your domain." He shot her a confused look, trying to work out whether she had seen him watch her change on the sand. He was pretty sure that she hadn't, but perhaps he hadn't been careful enough... She threw him a bone "the yellow bikini..."

The pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place. "I was not ogling her!" She laughed at how quickly she could rile him when he thought that his honour was under question.

"The fact that you remember who I'm talking about just by me saying the words yellow bikini proves that you were ogling her!"

"If a suspect wants to wear next to nothing while I question them then there's nothing I can do about it! If I remember correctly you wore the same thing once..."

If she was pleased at the fact he remembered the first time he had seen her in a bikini she didn't show it. "So you're saying you would have acted exactly the same way if you had been talking to a man in swimming trunks?" She laughed at his inability to answer her. Of course he wouldn't and she knew it. "If she was such an important suspect then you should remember her name Richard."

That's ridiculous, it was months ago, I doubt you can remember the name of last week's suspects, let alone ones from six months ago..."

"Tell me her name and I'll believe that she wasn't just another pretty face to you..."

"You know, I take offense at you trying to sully my reputation like this..."

"What reputation?" He narrowed his eyes at him and she retaliated by splashing him, it felt better to be able to do something physical towards him other than rolling her eyes.

"Careful Camille, it's still an offence to strike a senior police officer..."

"Stop trying to buy time and tell me her name."

It came to him in a flash and he had never been more grateful for the ability to retain seemingly innocuous details of every case he had ever worked on. "Liz! Her name was Liz! Ha!" That should put her back in her place, he thought.

"Oh...she was more than a pretty face then...you clearly liked her enough to remember her name. Did you fancy her Richard?"

"This is wholly unfair I'm not sure how much more of this I have to put up with, you asked me to prove I wasn't ogling her by remembering her name and now you're saying the fact that I do remember her name proves the very opposite." She was infuriating and he wanted nothing more than to grab her wrists and pull her towards him in the water. He felt slightly reckless.

He turned to try and argue his case with Jamie, seeking his presence as a way to put the brakes on a situation that was rapidly heading out of his control and found that his brother had allowed the tide to carry him away just far enough so that he couldn't hear the details of their conversation. If Richard was made more nervous by this discovery he didn't show it. Camille didn't give him much time to register that fact either, he was sure she had taken his lapse in their conversation as an opportunity to swim closer.

"I don't see what help he's going to be Richard. I'm pretty sure that you've ogled your fair share of women in London too..."

"Only the very pretty ones." He had spoken so softly that she had almost missed it and he was looking at her with a new intensity that she hadn't seen from him. But before she was able to act on it, it was gone. Whatever he had been thinking of had been locked away. She smiled shyly at him.

"Do you think I'm pretty Richard?" He didn't need to say anything, it would have been better if he hadn't, if he had just smiled that stupid lop sided smile at her. She would have known everything she needed to know.

But instead he decided to try and answer her. "No, you're..." He had meant to call her beautiful but stopped himself when he realised how inappropriate that would be. "I mean yes, of course you're pretty. Well, that's to say, you know, a lot of women on the island are very pretty, in their own way. I mean, take your mother for example."

"My mother?"

"Yes, oh no! Not in that way, that would be weird."

"So you're saying that anyone who thought my mother was attractive would be weird?"

"That's not what I was saying at all!"

"Well that's what is sounded like!"

This wasn't how he had envisioned their conversation. They were in the crystal clear blue waters of the Caribbean, wearing next to nothing, and she was so close that he could almost touch her, brushing up against her could have easily been put down to accident. He should have been able to tell her how he really felt, to hell with the regulations, but true to form he had panicked, lost faith in himself at the crucial moment and looked like an idiot. No, he didn't just look like an idiot, he was an idiot, and he wasn't going to stick around to listen to Camille tell him what he knew already.

The silence between them was charged with the electricity of their unspoken emotions and he was able to hold her gaze for a few moments, both their eyes blazing before the enormity of what he had just said hit home and his embarrassment got the better of him. He dropped his eyes looking instead at the body underneath him in the water, it was the first time he had looked at himself. The image before him didn't reflect the image of himself in his mind. It glowed back at him, almost florescent in its whiteness, and in that moment Camille could see his courage drain out of him as the last vestiges of his new found self esteem vanished. He squinted back up at her and stammered something about being cold and seeing her later and with that was gone, leaving her still fuming.

She wasn't on her own for long, Jamie had soon swum up alongside her. "What happened?"

"Nothing, other than your brother being the rudest and most thoughtless man I have ever met."

"What did he say?"

She fixed him with a look that made him suddenly understand why Richard had such a problem being direct with her. "Why don't you ask him for yourself?"

"Right, yes. I'll um..."

She nodded her assent as his unfinished question, and watched as he waded back to the shore and caught up with his brother. She didn't really want to be with him anyway. She sighed heavily. Why the hell did everything keep going wrong? Could he really be that immune to her? Was she that clumsy in her attempts to tell him? She hadn't thought she was that bad, but perhaps he genuinely had no interest in her. Perhaps it was time to stop trying. She dragged herself out of the water, and picked up her clothing walking forlornly back towards the town.


	7. Chapter 7

Camille hadn't seen Richard for the rest of the day, or for the rest of the weekend. She had hoped that he would he appear in the office on Monday morning, where she could have smiled at him, let him know that she wasn't angry with him that there had never been anything to be angry about. It was a stupid misunderstanding between the two of them, just like everything always was. If she had hoped to make him understand any of this then she remained frustrated. Richard had indeed managed to take the week off at short notice, on the express understanding that if the team needed a senior officer for any reason then he would have to return to work. Instead of being greeted by his usual striding form entering the station on Monday morning she had encountered the more unusual softly spoken and hulking form of the commissioner to deliver the bad news.

Monday had passed uneventfully. There had been nothing to investigate, no paperwork to fill out and she had patrolled the market until she had begun to imagine crime behind every stall. There was nothing for her to do except think about him. She had missed his presence more than she had thought she would. It brought back memories of the week that he had been away, the frustration she had felt at him not knowing if he was coming back. She felt that this was worse. Knowing that he was uncomfortable about how their conversation ended only made her more desperate to see him, to try and explain. She didn't even know where he was. It was highly unlikely that he would still be at his house, not when his family were staying in a hotel, she smiled when she imagined his joy at being somewhere where there was no sand inside, sitting in a conventional room where no flora grew through the walls and where he could get a decent cup of tea. Yes, he was probably at one of the many nameless hotels on the island where he would be free of her for a week. The only way she could possibly think of to see him was to go to his shack, but there was no plausible reason for her to go there, not without revealing her hand.

Tuesday was in danger of being exactly the same as the previous day. She had just about had enough of reorganising her desk, her files, even the office files when finally something came in worth investigating. A burglary. At last something that required a little brain power, although she guessed that it would be the same usual suspects that would crop up when they questioned witnesses. Most probably an open and shut case, but who cared! Fidel was still out at the market, quite how he had so much energy doing such a mundane job she would never know, she put in a quick call to him then called out to Dwayne.

"We've got a job. Grab the kit and let's go to the car!" She was already down the steps before Dwayne had even raised his head from his desk and removed his ice pack.

***

She was right, it was an open and shut case. The only thing that had been stolen had been money and it was such an audacious theft that they hadn't even bothered to cover their faces as they had walked down the hotel corridor and broken into a series of rooms. Audacious or stupid. It was probably the latter. It would be easy to track them and arrest them, and there would be paperwork, enough to while away Wednesday morning. All in all a good afternoon's work, and no one would care if she took an extra 10 minutes to gather her thoughts on the beach. She walked from the bar, down the steps towards the sea, stepping out of her shoes and wriggling her toes in the hot sand. She revelled in the sensation of being able to take her shoes off for the first time that day as she looked around. The beach was surprisingly empty, small groups of holiday makers scattered in front of her. She took a path next to the tree line that brought her into contact with the smallest number of them, and basked in the sensation of the shade dappling over her face. She was enjoying her own company so much that she had almost walked on top of one of the families she was trying to avoid. It was such a silent gathering that she nearly walked right past them. She had only stopped as a very slow and deliberate movement had caught her eye.

She paused to watch with interest. A woman in her early 30s was stealthily creeping up to someone with a glass in her hand. It took Camille all of 4 seconds to work out what was going on. Poor old Richard, who was sitting at a table in the shade minding his own business, was about to get a glass of cold water all over him. She couldn't stop the glee that was spreading through her, the giggle that was bubbling in her throat, threatening to escape and draw attention to her presence. He turned at the last moment, saw what was coming and tried to struggle to his feet to get out of the way but it was to no avail. Even with his arms out as a protective measure before him the glass of water hit him squarely in the chest.

He yelped with the shock "Oh you little..."

Camille watched as the woman ran gleefully away cackling to herself , but Richard was too quick for her and had already grabbed both of her wrists, pulling her back to the table.

"Mum, mummy please, make him stop! Please it's not fair!"

If Camille had bothered to glance at either of who she assumed were his parents she would have seen that both of them were watching with slightly bemused expressions on their faces, and that clearly neither of them were prepared to lift a finger to help their daughter. Richard had now managed to drag his sister back to the table and was fumbling around behind him trying to get his hands around the handle of the water jug which she guessed from the condensation contained ice. She was still squealing for mercy when his hand finally made connection and brought the entire contents of the upended jug over her head. She stood there for a moment in shock while the rest of the family roared with laughter.

Richard chuckled to himself for a moment then stuck his tongue into the bottom of his lip in a time old childish gesture, turning to return to his chair while his sister sought the refuge of a towel. He had just picked up his book when he turned and saw Camille. He gawped at her for a moment, her name falling out of his mouth, then reached for his shirt as his entire family shifted their attention to her. She suddenly felt very self conscious. Richard was moving over to her with a concerned look on his face.

"Is anything wrong?"

"No, why would anything be wrong?"

"Because you're here...has there been a murder?" His concern had vanished, damn it he actually looked hopeful.

"No, burglary." She saw him pout a little. "And try not to look so disappointed." She couldn't shake the fact that his parents and his sister were still looking at her with some interest. She turned to them and raised her hand in greeting. Richard suddenly seemed to remember his manners.

"Oh, sorry, this is my mum, Annabel, dad, Jonathan, Jules and Lucie my sister." They all copied her inane little wave, not really sure what else to do. He took her elbow and guided her away from them a little, in the hope that she would get some of her confidence back, away from the watchful eye of his parents and tell him a little more about the case they had. His main worry had been Lucie, under any other situation where she didn't look like a drowned rat he knew that she would have been all over Camille, he didn't want to waste any time waiting for her to dry off.

"Details?"

"There aren't any and you can't help."

"So what are you doing here then?"

"It's an open and shut case Richard so I'm taking 10 minutes out to go for a walk."

"And you just to come to this hotel and walk past my family?"

"Yes, I wasn't looking for you if that's what you mean." But she couldn't put any real emotion into her comment as the fact of the matter was that she had been hoping to bump into him. Well, longing would probably be a better word. She couldn't help but notice that he still had his hand on her elbow as they walked.

"That bored huh?"

"There is nothing to do."

"Filing?"

"Done. And I've even tidied my desk."

"Impressive." Their pace had slowed and they walked on in silence.

"So that's your family?"

"Yup."

"Your whole family?"

"Sort of. Jules is Jamie's girlfriend..."

A wave of relief washed through her although she was careful not to show it. Not single. Thank God. So he had asked her to the beach on behalf of his brother. The realisation gave her hope. "They seem nice."

"What were you expecting?" She noticed that his hand had moved from her elbow but they were still close, he hadn't moved away from her just yet.

"I don't know, I suppose didn't think there would be so many of them. It's just you've always been so reticent with other people. I sort of got the impression you were an only child. I think we all did."

It had been a light-hearted comment, but something that resembled disappointment cast a shadow over his face for a moment. She didn't want another argument so tried to pick the pace of their conversation again, but he had beaten her to it.

"Am I really that bad? With people, I mean?"

No, of course not." She had said it quickly but not quick enough. His look told her that he didn't believe her. "Richard, you come from a different world to everyone on this island. Everyone here knows everyone else's business. They always have done and they always will. But London's like Paris. You can get lost in the crowd, you don't even have to talk to your neighbours if you don't want to. Can you imagine doing that here?" It was a stupid question given that he lived in an isolated shack and had so far gone out of his way to avoid communication with any of the locals, but one that he was gracious enough to ignore. There seemed to be something else bothering him.

"Am I that bad with you?"

"No. But I know you." She watched a smile touch the corners of his mouth and the frown lessen. "It's not a bad thing to want to be solitary some of the time Richard. You just have to know when to let go a little. It doesn't help when you constantly tell us how much you miss England and how much better it is there than it is here." She couldn't believe that she was able to speak to him like this. What the hell was going on?

She was worried that she had said too much, that he was going to close himself off to her. He had his hands buried deep in the pockets of his shorts (shorts! she thought) and his head was bowed. He seemed to think about shutting her down for a moment then decided against it. "You know, I don't think I miss it as much as I say I do, it's just sort of a habit that I can't get out of now. And I suppose I feel that if I stop saying it then I won't be English anymore. Is that stupid?"

She shook her head. "No. It's part of who you are Richard, that won't change if you stop talking about it. But here's part of who you are too. It's not a bad thing to embrace island life a little, it's not as if people will forget you're English..."

He nodded and for the first time looked at her properly. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Before. On Saturday. It didn't come out properly. I mean, what I was trying to say didn't come out properly...about you being pretty." She thought he was doing a pretty good job at making a hash of it now too, but it was closer than he'd ever come before to expressing his emotions. He seemed to have stopped, unsure of how to go on.

"What were you trying to say?"

"Um. Just that you, um, look very pretty today. Well every day really." She looked as though she was about to cry. Oh God, what had he done now? With a monumental effort she managed to get her emotions under control, now was not the time for crying, she knew it would confuse him. Instead smiled shyly up at him, a small strand of her hair making a break from the main sweep of hair that was secured at the back of her neck and fell forward over her face. Without thinking about it, Richard leant forward, caught it between his fingers caressing it for a moment before tucking it back into its proper place. His hand remained hovering at the side of her face, his fingers almost grazing her ear. He couldn't seem to break her gaze. He was beginning to feel disorientated, unsteady on his feet, could hear a roaring in his ears and feel his breaths shorten even though there was no need for it. He was aware of Camille's rapidly dilating pupils, her tilted head, her slightly open lips before him. Was that an invitation? He was monumentally confused, somehow his fingers had found their way to the back of her neck, his thumb brushing against her cheek. He leant forward closing the gap between them slowly, amazed that she had yet to push him back, ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. He was so close...

"Camille!" Dwayne's unmistakable voice filtered down from the hotel, shattering the moment that two years of sexual frustration had been building to. It was enough to remind Richard of what he was risking. What had he been thinking? His hand dropped from her neck as if it had been burnt and he stumbled back putting a few precious feet between them. He searched her face looking for some sign that he had embarrassed himself by presuming that she would let him kiss her, but there was nothing there except frustrated desire and something else he couldn't name, but that gave him hope to try again.

She gestured behind her. "I should go..."

"Yes, call me if you need any help, or anything else." He blushed slightly and she nodded and smiled enigmatically at him. What the hell did that smile mean? Did that mean she would? He realised that he couldn't bear the idea of not seeing her for another full two days and just as she had turned to go called out after her. "Um, Camille, I'll be in the bar later... if you want to join me for a drink?" She was about to answer when he recognised the Freudian slip he'd just committed. "I mean we. We'll be in the bar later if you want to join us for a drink." His brow creased in frustration and his general ineptitude around her. He could see that she was biting the inside of her lip. Was she trying not to laugh at him?

She nodded. "Save me a seat..." She left him stunned and slightly giddy at her remark as she retreated towards the hotel, willing herself not to look back only to fail dismally at the last hurdle as the steps to the patio came into view. She was relieved to find that he was still watching her.

So not so immune after all then...


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the afternoon had passed by in a flash, partly because of the paperwork that they needed to make a start on but mostly because Camille spent the entire time replaying the earlier conversation she had had with Richard in her head. There was no way that she could have misinterpreted what had just happened, could she? She was aware that she was acting like a teenager but couldn't quite bring herself to looked up and found Dwayne staring. She clenched her fists; she had spent the afternoon fluctuating between euphoria and frustration. Ten seconds. That would have been all she needed. Ten seconds and she wouldn't have cared about anything, Dwayne could have shouted her name until he was blue in the face and she wouldn't have cared. She had no idea when the next opportunity would be, or even if there would be one. Perhaps she had scared him off?

She had no idea what time she was meant to turn up at the bar. Would it be too keen to go straight there from work? Yes, probably. He'd said they'd be there later, whatever that meant. They most probably wouldn't even be there yet and she was too embarrassed to call. She decided that she didn't want to wait on her own in the bar; she probably needed to change her clothes too, perhaps for something a little more feminine. She headed for home. Back at her house she rummaged through her cupboards, pulling everything out and on to her bed. Why she was nervous, it was just Richard. But suddenly every item of clothing that she pulled out seemed unacceptable. Trousers? Too work like. Shorts? Too daytime. A dress? She really wanted to wear a dress, she remembered the last time he had looked at her in one, how his eyes had travelled over her body, how his compliment had tumbled from his mouth like he couldn't contain himself. But there was no reason to wear one, her mother would surely notice and comment on it. She decided on a skirt. She hoped that it was feminine enough to remind him of the dress, but didn't look like she was trying too hard. She wore her hair up on her neck; she could always take it down later if needed. She didn't change her makeup from work but did reapply it and perhaps put a little more lip gloss on than normal. The change had taken an hour, 7pm.

"You look nice" she could see the smile her mother was trying to conceal.

"Thank you Maman."

"They're on the terrace..."

"Who are?" Her mother arched an eyebrow at Camille's attempt at feigned innocence. "Lovely family. Richard looks much more relaxed too, it's the first time I've seen him out of a suit."

"I know Maman."

"He looks good." She was watching Camille for an acknowledgement of her last comment, but she was ignored. She tried a different tact. "Are Dwayne and Fidel coming?"

"They should be," It was a lie. Camille hadn't told either of them about the drinks, and with a bit of luck they wouldn't find out about them. Fidel would most probably have hurried home to his family and she had heard Dwayne talking about a date, it was unlikely that he would take her to La Kaz.

"Cocktail?" Camille nodded and a moment later was handed something tall and red and made her way outside. They were easy to find, she could hear Richard protesting about something.

"Look, all I did was lay the bangers. Jamie did the rest."

"You utter liar! It was totally your idea."

"As a joke. You were the one that sucked me into actually doing it. You're the reason I got my one and only caution, that caused me hell when I joined."

The conversation was broken by Lucie who had noticed Camille coming towards them. She waved enthusiastically, "Camille! Hi!" Three faces were beaming at her expectantly and Camille returned the smile, finally resting it on the one person who looked slightly more embarrassed to see her. Perhaps he was regretting his invitation. Lucie had already embraced her and was pulling her towards the table like a long lost friend. "Oh my goodness it's so lovely to finally meet you, Richard always talks about you." Camille shot a quick look at Richard who was studiously ignoring her and had the beginnings of a blush creeping to the edge of his cheeks. Lucie continued on happily. "Sit here." It was next to Richard.

"So what have I missed?" She saw Richard wince a little at the question – so it was obviously something embarrassing. She hoped so.

Lucie piped up again. "I was just enlightening Jules about the time that my brothers blew up some innocent Brownies." Camille looked confused. "Brownies, girl guides..." Camille nodded, but narrowed her eyes at Richard.

"You opened fire on little girls?"

Richard looked horrified and indignant. "No, it wasn't like that at all!" He looked at his brother helplessly, who thankfully came to the rescue.

"We had a sort of feud with the Brownies, Camille - which they totally started." He was very clear on the last point.

Camille looked dumbfounded at how little girls could have started a feud. Richard enlightened her, "they nicked his catapult." She snorted with laughter. "It's not funny! They always stole everything, and then they always hid behind Brown Owl, it was impossible to retaliate, and that's not fair." He looked so indignant about their grudge 30 years ago that Camille was having difficulty controlling her giggling.

"Brown Owl?"

"The person in charge – look, it doesn't matter. Anyway I suggested to Jamie that it would be funny to put bangers in the building they were sleeping in. AS A JOKE."

"It was not a joke."

"It was a joke. The only reason I actually went ahead with it was because you said they weren't coming back and that it would be funny to see what would happen if we laid them anyway. By the time I realised they were all inside it was too late to get the bangers back."

"Oh yeah." At Jamie's sudden recollection Richard threw up his hands in despair.

Camille interrupted before a family feud of their own could be started. "I'm still confused where did you put the bangers?"

Richard was squirming, "under their camp beds."

You put bangers under their camp beds?" Camille knew she should be appalled but was trying to choke back a laugh despite herself.

Richard nodded "but Jamie lit them."

"Oh everything's always my fault."

"Yes, you know what in this instance it is. You even laid additional ones in the undergrowth for when they came out! And stop trying to look all innocent in this. You're the reason I wasn't allowed to leave the house for a month." Jamie was laughing evilly.

For all his huffing, he actually looked genuinely aggrieved. Camille couldn't believe that this still had such an effect on him. She tried to get his attention, "Richard?" He was too busy frowning at his brother. "Richard!" She was louder this time and he finally looked at her. "Stop worrying. Was anyone hurt?"

"No." He sounded like a petulant child.

"Then why does it matter?

"Because I got a caution!"

"But they still let you join."

"I suppose so..."

"and you're still very good at your job..." He looked at her searching for some reassurance that she wasn't being sarcastic then grudgingly accepted the compliment. "So I don't see why it matters." He conceded her point with a nod and she looked up and could see the others smirking at them. She suddenly felt very vulnerable.

"Beers?" They all nodded their assent and she made an escape to the bar. Catherine was already serving at another table when she got there so she leant over and helped herself from the fridge.

"I thought stealing was illegal?"

She looked up to see that Jamie had followed her.

"And I thought I was getting this round?"

"You still are, I just thought it might be fun to get some chasers in as well."

"Chasers? For everyone?" He nodded. "Even Richard?"

"Yes, even Richard." She frowned and he paused as if deciding how to phrase a question. "How well do you know him?"

"Well enough. He doesn't say much about his life back in London. But I know what I need to."

"Which is?"

"He's brilliant, hard working, loves his job..."

"Suck up..."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, he's also pedantic, highly irritating, rude and annoying."

Jamie snorted. "Any redeeming qualities?

"A few. You should know them better than I do."

"It's always nice to hear it from a colleague though."

"Oh I don't think so, I know what I need to and it's enough. Besides, I don't know if I can trust you..."

"You like him don't you?"

"No, it's not like that." Jamie looked entirely unconvinced. "And even if I did it wouldn't make any difference so you don't need to warn me off ok? He hasn't exactly made a move..."

Jamie had a thoughtful look on his face, trying to work out how to phrase his next sentence. "No. I wasn't going to do that, I actually wanted to ask you to stick with him? He needs a bit of encouragement sometimes."

"Why?"

He shrugged but the look she gave him told him he wasn't going to get off that easy. "It's complicated."

"Try me."

"Look, you described him as hard working, right?" Camille nodded. "It's just a defence mechanism. He works because he doesn't think he has anything else."

"I still don't understand."

He was debating how much to tell. "Richard worked hard to buy a better life and his ex left saying that he was never around. I think he now thinks that it's easier to work at something that won't let him down." He paused, already uncomfortable about how much he had already had to give away. "Camille, you have no idea what it's like having to watch your brother morph into someone you don't recognise anymore. But he's been better since he came here."

"That's nothing to do with me." She saw his raised eyebrow. "Honestly, he doesn't see me like that. He's not interested. He told me yesterday that he didn't even think I'm pretty." She had purposefully omitted to mention their chat on the beach earlier that afternoon, wanted to see what else she could push Jamie into giving away.

"Oh God Camille, that's not what he meant."

"Well what did he mean then?"

"He was trying to tell you that you're..." he paused, thought it would be inappropriate to tell the girl his brother's was interested in that she was beautiful. "Look, I'm sure he'll explain, at some point anyway. Just give him some more time. Please?"

She nodded and he left with the five beers wedged in between his fingers, as Catherine came bustling back to the bar.

"Camille you've left the fridge door open."

"Sorry Maman." She made to move away.

"Is that rum?"

"Yes." Her mother gave her a knowing look. "We'll pay for what we drink."

"I know. That wasn't what I was worried about..."

"As she approached the table she heard her name called out "Camille, Camille! Come and listen to this one it's hilarious."

"No, Luce you promised you wouldn't!" Richard's protest was met by more giggling.

Camille was intrigued. "Is it worse than the Brownie story?"

"That depends..."

"On?"

"On how disgusting you think cow pats are." She dissolved into giggles again.

She looked over at Richard and saw that his hands were massaging his forehead, his eyes tightly squeezed shut. With what looked like a monumental effort he dragged his head up. "Oh for Christ's sake I'll tell her. You're only going to ham it up anyway."

She felt sorry for him, thought that he'd had enough for one evening, at least for now. "You can tell me later. Rum?"

Camille offered him the bottle and a shot glass. To her surprise he took it.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just didn't expect you to do it without complaining, that's all."

"I don't mind rum, you know that." She shrugged.

"I know. It just seems like I'm learning a lot more about you tonight though..." He grunted his displeasure at this latest comment and she continued her gentle teasing. "You know Richard; some people might wonder why you used to play with French bangers."

"Just because they are bangers Sergeant Bordey does not mean they were necessarily French."

"They were though." Jamie butted in again. "You should have seen him, Camille. Every time anyone went to France he had this huge list of things they had to bring back. Dad banned him at one point because he was getting so annoying.

"And I thought you hated everything about the French."

"No, not everything...ow!" Camille hadn't missed the swift kick Richard had administered under the table. She bit the inside of her lip to stop her smile from escaping as Jamie scowled a little then took out a pack of cigarettes giving Richard a derisive glare as he lit up. Jules took up the conversation and for the first time Camille felt that she was no longer under scrutiny. Not that she had minded, but it was nice to be able to relax a little. She studied Richard quickly, his pupils had dilated a little and he was breathing deeply. So an ex-smoker she thought to herself. That was interesting.

She released the tension in her arms a little by leaning back in her chair and dropping one to her side, brushing against something in the process. She looked down and realised that Richard's hand was adjacent to hers. He hadn't moved it despite the proximity and contact of their skin. He seemed content to leave it there.

Their hands hung side by side, so close, yet separated by a gulf she was unsure how to cross. She felt something else though, the small pocket of air that now seemed to dance with the electricity between them. She couldn't help it; she wanted to touch him again, if only to prove that he wasn't interested when he moved away. She stretched out her little finger tentatively towards him. They met with his and out of the corner of her eye she could see his expression change, there was a mixture of confusion and awakening on his face. His body stiffened a little but his hand remained where it was, turning slightly so that his palm was more readily available to her. She continued gently stroking his skin, trying to get him to relax and was rewarded when he let out an imperceptible sigh.

"You still miss it then?" She kept her voice low, the others were still deep in their own conversation.

He smiled and nodded. "Sometimes. Just the feeling of being relaxed."

"Why did you stop?"

He shrugged. "It's bad for you and I was lead to believe that women don't necessarily like it."

She returned his smile, "Do you regret giving it up?"

"That depends"

"On?"

"On whether my information was correct."

"Well, I can confirm that it is bad for you..." She felt the tension in his arm and toyed with him for a moment, enjoyed his vulnerability before putting him out of his misery, "and I can't speak for all women but I'm not a huge fan of it either." Her fingers were now linked with his, an intimate gesture hidden by the closeness of their chairs from all but the most prying of eyes.

"No whispering in the corner!" Jamie's voice broke their reverie and was quickly followed by the rum bottle being sliding violently towards Richard. He broke contact with Camille in order to catch it. "Drink up, you're missing the party!"


	9. Chapter 9

Richard was feeling decidedly more merry than he ought to. He was in dire need of food and a bit of fresh air before the possibility of making a fool of himself became a reality.

"Hungry?" Camille had noticed his fidgeting.

"Starving."

She turned her attention to the rest of the table. "Anyone else hungry?" They all reluctantly nodded, no one was keen to make a big evening of it and Camille was relieved. There may not have been much going on at the station but she was not about to turn up at work with a hangover. "I can get Maman to give us some menus, "she caught the looks between them. "What?"

"Don't take this the wrong way Camille but it might be time for a change of scene... and I get the impression that your mother has been keeping a watchful eye on us all evening. Delightful as that is it might be nice to have our own space."

"Sorry, its force of habit with her."

"You mean nosey." She punched Richard on the arm in retaliation.

"So where would you suggest then?"

"We could grab something on the way home..."

"Street food?" Richard wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"There is nothing wrong with street food!"

"According to you."

"Yes according to me. Is there a problem?" She had addressed this last question to Richard but had looked up at the table to get their approval forgetting to temper her expression to something a little more agreeable than the one she used when dealing with Richard. They all shook their heads furiously in a response and Richard couldn't contain his glee at the fact his brother actually found Camille intimidating. His sniggering promptly brought Camille back to her senses and she realised that she was being aggressive. Her face rapidly changed to something more placid and she looked rather sheepish. "Sorry. Is everyone really ok with street food? I know Richard says he hates it but we can do something else if he's in the majority."

She looked panicked in case she had alienated herself from them, but it was Jules that came to the rescue. She recognised a strong woman when she saw one and was secretly relieved that Richard had managed to find himself someone who he wasn't afraid to stand up to this time and vice versa, even if he wasn't prepared to do anything about it just yet, and even if she did still have the upper hand in this argument. She grinned. "To be honest Camille, I think anything at moment would be a good idea, Richard will have to cope."

Even Richard had to admit that when it came down to it Caribbean street food actually wasn't that bad. He had been expecting something akin to a kebab, but thankfully what had been pressed into his hands actually looked like meat and smelt delicious. He sniffed it suspiciously before taking the tiniest of mouthfuls. Camille was watching him with amusement which turned into a gloat when his mouth turned into a small smile of acceptance.

"Told you." Richard could only narrow his eyes at her.

They hadn't waited for a makeshift table because the others had wanted to see what Honoré looked like at night. They had worked their way down the main street pausing to listen to the music streaming out of the bars. It had amused Camille to watch them. Jamie was the antithesis of Richard, cigarette dangling from his mouth clutching Jules to his chest as he allowed the beer to work its magic and whirled her around the street. It was truly appalling dancing, but she loved the fact that the two of them didn't care, because they were clearly having fun. She wondered if Richard had ever been able to laugh at himself the way Jamie was doing. She stole a glance at him and saw that he and Lucie were watching the others too. They had their arms casually around each other and their closeness almost made her resent the fact that she was an only child. She could see now that he had missed them greatly in the time that he had been away. It was in the casual camaraderie, the gentle teasing, the way that the boys ganged up on their sister. The dancers had grown tired of the music and their little group was now moving on. She hurried to catch up with Richard and could see that he was trying his best to trip his sister up, careful to hold her upright in case he actually succeeded and she fell. She loved this playful side of his. The annoying brother that she had never suspected existed.

He started to behave again when he realised that Camille was walking alongside him. He briefly considered putting his other arm around her, but didn't want to give his sister any fuel for retaliation. He made a compromise of removing his arm from Lucie's shoulders though and hoped that she wouldn't fathom the reason behind it.

"Where are we off to?" Camille was getting tired and wasn't sure she could wander the streets aimlessly all night. Work was boring at the moment but that didn't mean she didn't want to be alert for it in case something interesting happened.

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, you do realise we're headed for the beach right now don't you." That stopped him in his tracks. He'd been so preoccupied with tormenting his sister that he hadn't really registered the direction that they were headed in.

Lucie pounced on this new information immediately. "Oh the beach, please let's go to the beach!"

"We've spent the whole day on the beach."

"So? Oh please let's go to the beach, I haven't been to the beach at night for ages."

"It's exactly the same as the beach during the day Luce, it's just dark." She made whining noises, the ones that she knew would usually get her anything. "Fine, but let's go to the beach at the hotel..."

"What difference does it make? God you're so annoying, Richie please, there's no one here and you have all the light at hotel ruining everything." Well, he couldn't argue with that.

They settled on the sand. There was no talking, everyone suddenly seemed very tired. Camille looked over and could see that Jamie and Jules had collapsed sprawled on the sand a little way from the rest of them, his arms around her, whispering and giggling to each other. Lucie had also thrown herself back onto the beach. Only Camille and Richard remained sitting. She looked over at him. He didn't look overly relaxed, but he looked so different as she studied his face fondly. She allowed her eyes to skim over his torso. He really did look good out of his suit.

"Beautiful view isn't it?" Her thoughts were interrupted and she turned to look at Lucie's face behind her and saw that she had been watching's Camille's study of her brother and was smiling wickedly at her. Camille turned away, embarrassed to have been caught out so easily.

The giggling had died down now and all of them sat in a friendly silence, the time for story sharing and teasing was over. The night sky had a spell binding affect on them all, even Richard who was at that moment wishing he was back at home so that he could see things in more detail. For now he was content with seeing it in all its glory, he never got the opportunity to do this at home anyway, he never ventured further than the veranda which meant half the sky was lost to him under his roof.

He heard a little gasp of realisation from Camille and turned to see her smiling to herself.

"What is it?"

"Nothing much, I just think I've worked something out." His frown pushed her to share her thoughts. "Your telescope..."

"Precision Optical..."

"It doesn't matter what it's actually called. Did you name it after your sister?"

He nodded. "She wasn't quite as annoying as she is now."

They both heard the "Hey" as her foot planted itself firmly in his back. Richard shot her a see what I mean? look.

"Well that solves that mystery then. I thought you might have had a crush on someone at school."

"At an all boy's school?"

"Well perhaps not now you mention it!" Richard chuckles to himself then hears his brother clear his throat.

"I, um, I thought we might wander back along the beach." Jamie was already on his feet and had offered his hand to Jules when he saw Lucie standing to join them.

"That sounds like a great idea, come on." Jamie shot his brother an alarmed glance.

"Oh, I was going to go along in a bit. We can catch them up in a couple of minutes can't we?" Lucie looked slightly deflated but sat back down again. Richard ignored her and shot his brother a small smile as they left.

"Since when have you ever wanted to stay on the beach when you had the opportunity to go home?"

"Since I like looking at the stars." Both women were looking at him now.

It was Lucie who spoke first. "Why aren't we allowed to follow them Richard." Richard pursed his lips and shook his head, the model of innocence. Her head immediately turned towards the couple receding into the darkness. She made to get up but Richard grabbed her hand.

"Give them some time."

"Why?" It was a rhetorical question and one that had its answer soon enough. She looked at him excitedly.

"Oh my God, that's amazing!" She squealed and sat down next to Richard, full on excitement raging through her. "Now we just need to get you engaged! I mean to a nice one this time, obviously."

"Lucinda!" She knew she'd overstepped the mark, even without his warning tone. He would have brushed the comment away if they had been alone, perhaps joked about it, she knew that, but Camille being there changed everything. An embarrassed silence hung among them.

She couldn't say sorry, didn't want to draw more attention to it, so instead tried to fill the hush by prattling on for a little while until it became obvious that the evening was now over, ruined by her revelation and the fact that the others were now far enough ahead for her to follow them. She made her goodbyes, leaning briefly to kiss her brother on the cheek before drawing Camille into a quick embrace, much to the latter's astonishment. She left quickly after that leaving the two of them alone.

Camille sighed. It wasn't exactly how she had wanted the evening to go. She had envisioned them lying on the beach, getting Richard comfortable enough with her presence for her to move closer until she was able to lie next to him, even rest her head on his shoulder or his chest. Perhaps he could have even given her an impromptu star gazing lesson, she wouldn't have minded anything that meant she could spend more time with him. But the evening was over, she knew that from the way that he was staring straight ahead, jaw set, oblivious to her presence. She thought she should remind him she was still there and slipped her hand into his. He started a little but it brought him back to reality.

He looked at her then registered how late it was. "You should go home too, work tomorrow." She smiled and nodded as he helped her to her feet, not quite sure if he was dismissing her or because he genuinely cared.

"Will you walk me home?" He looked astonished but nodded his agreement. They fell into step with each other. The walk was short, they hadn't gone too far from the town and Richard was grateful for it, he still felt on the back foot and wasn't quite sure how to talk about anything that wouldn't seem insignificant given what Camille had just leant. He knew that once they were back in the town it wouldn't matter, the noise would provide them ample to discuss and comment on. She stopped him before they moved onto the concrete.

"I really enjoyed tonight."

"Did you?"

She nodded shyly. "I had no idea you had such a large family. I like them." He smiled at her. "If you're in the bar again will you let me know?"

"I don't know what the others will want to do but I'll ask them."

"No, I meant, if you are at the bar Richard."

"Oh. Yes, of course." She turned to move to away from the beach towards the noise but Richard stopped her, a shot of courage suddenly surging through him.

"Camille?" He looked bashful, but her small smile gave him the encouragement he needed. "I was wondering if you, I mean tomorrow evening, if you're not doing anything, if you wanted to, um, have dinner with me," he stammered out the proposal and then seemed to think better of it, "you're probably busy. It doesn't matter." He managed to steal a look at her and saw that she was now grinning.

"Yes."

It seemed to confirm his last statement. "You're busy. It's fine."

"No I'm not busy, I'd like dinner. If that's ok?"

"Yes. I mean great!" It suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea where to take her. "Um, can I send you details tomorrow? But let's say 7.30?"

She nodded and they finally headed back towards the commotion of the town. Her hand slipped into his again and they walked comfortably side by side until they reached her door.

"Thank you." He shrugged. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"7.30?"

"7.30. I'm looking forward to it." She caught his look of amazement and kissed him quickly on the cheek before shutting the door carefully.


	10. Chapter 10

Camille woke early the next morning. She wasn't particularly refreshed, she had gone to bed almost as soon as she had closed her front door but hadn't slept. She had lain there thinking over the evening, replaying their conversation, the way he had allowed her to finally get close. She laughed out loud when she realised that "getting close" meant touching his hand. Is that what her love life amounted to now? The truth of the matter was that she couldn't quite believe that last night had actually happened. She looked at her phone. There was no evidence of their conversation ever having existed, no message confirming reservation details for later that day, nothing. Perhaps she had dreamt the whole thing. She thought about texting him to reconfirm, but didn't want to look needy. There was nothing for it but to wait for him to text, even if the anticipation killed her.

As the morning wore into the afternoon her anticipation turned into frustration. Time was dragging despite the growing pile of paperwork to fill in from yesterday's burglary and Richard's lack of communication only compounded her dissatisfaction with the events of the day. She looked at her phone for what felt like the millionth time and wondered again why he hadn't sent a text. When it finally came through she pounced on it almost immediately then felt annoyed with herself for giving in so easily. She hadn't read it yet. Surely she should make him wait a little? She gave in after ten seconds .

Plans changed slightly given Jamie and Jules' news. Dinner with everyone at the hotel, is that ok? R

She wasn't really sure what to think. She had spent the entire night and most of the day planning their date and now there were going to be an additional five people on it. She sighed heavily, causing Fidel to look up at her in alarm. She waved away his concern quickly weighing up the pros and cons in her head. It wasn't what she wanted. She wanted a night alone with Richard, but then even if she got that what did she honestly expect to happen? That he would profess his undying love to her in one night? The reality was that she would kiss him goodnight on her doorstep as before, or if she was really lucky he would kiss her. She was being selfish. His family had come to spend time with him and they were here for a week, graciously inviting her to celebrate Jamie's engagement with them. It would look rude and unfriendly if she said no. She reached for her phone.

That would be lovely – are you sure they really want me there? C

She got a text back almost immediately.

Yes definitely! 7.30. Apologies about my mother in advance. R

***

She was early. Damn. She had been panicking about being late that she had rushed everything and was now here early. She couldn't go home, there wasn't enough time. She supposed she could sit on the beach on her own, but if anyone saw her it would look like she didn't want to spend time with them. There was nothing for it but to head to the bar.

Her panic subsided a little when she saw two familiar figures. Lucie caught sight of her first.

"Camille! We didn't think you'd be early! Come and have a drink with us." She threw her arms around her, dragging her to their table and to Jules who was grinning from ear to ear before departing again towards the bar.

"Congratulations!" Camille offered a hug which Jules gratefully took.

"I'm sorry I've been grinning like this for almost 24 hours now. It's so embarrassing but I can't seem to stop!" She giggled then seemed to realise that Camille might be feeling a little uncomfortable about intruding. "You don't mind do you? About coming tonight?"

"No of course not!"

"Oh good, it's just both of us really wanted you here, and I know Richard did too." She looked over and could see that Camille was trying not to look too hopeful at her last comment. "Honestly you've no idea how he changes when he's with you! It's so lovely to see him looking happy again." Camille bit back a laugh at the fact that Richard was meant to be happy when he was with her, he was so grumpy most of the time.

Jules picked up on it immediately. "It's all just a front you know, he's trying so hard to pretend that he doesn't like you, he's not doing a very good job though, I mean he talks about you all the time on emails and it wasn't really that hard to work out why when we finally met you."

Lucie came bustling over with some champagne and glasses, "I thought I should get the first glass in, you're going to be sick of this by the time you get married, it's all anyone will ever want to give you!"

"Not complaining, fill it up!" Lucie poured enormous portions for them all.

"So what have I missed?"

"We were just talking about Richard."

Lucie's face fell. "God I'm so sorry about last night.

"Why what happened?"

"Oh I made some stupid comment about getting Richard engaged again and he got so grumpy, you know how he is. It sort of ruined the moment."

She saw Jules' face tense with embarrassment "I hadn't even thought about how this would affect Richard, God I'm so selfish." For someone who had just got engaged she actually looked pretty downcast.

Camille reached across the table, "it honestly wasn't that bad. We walked home, he wasn't grumpy at all."

Lucie caught what she thought was an enigmatic smile and nodded. "Oh no you don't get off that easily, what happened?"

Camille was amazed at how easy it was to talk to the two of them, to share her thoughts about Richard. "Oh nothing really, just, he asked me out to dinner."

Lucie squealed. "Oh my God, he never does that sort of thing! When's it for?" She stopped when she saw Camille's face, "oh no it was for tonight wasn't it?"

Camille shrugged, "it's not a big deal, we'll go out another time."

"It is a big deal Camille, this is huge, there hasn't really been anyone since Emi!"

Camille's curiosity was now piqued. "Whose Emi?

"Oh his last girlfriend, well the one he got engaged to."

"Lucie..." Jules was trying to rein her back in, she didn't want Camille to think that she was being used by Richard as a rebound date, no matter how much time had elapsed between his last relationship and now.

"What?"

"Don't you think Richard should tell Camille when he's ready?" Lucie had quietened down a little, she seemed to realise that Richard wouldn't take kindly to having his personal life gossiped about.

Camille shot Jules a look which said I can't see Richard ever sharing that sort of information with me, can you? and got a resigned shrug by way of a reply.

"So they split up?"

She could see the two women sharing a look between them debating how much to share and to her surprise it was Jules that caved first. "Kind of. She erm, sort of ran off with someone, well actually she ran off with someone Richard had introduced her to. Pretty much destroyed his self confidence.

Camille thought about this. "He must have really loved her."

"I think at the time he did, I mean I wasn't really around so this is stuff Jamie's told me." She could see that Camille was already looking slightly deflated, there was no way she could compete with an ex girlfriend if Richard was still in love with her. Jules continued quickly. "He's definitely over her Camille. I think part of the reason he hasn't tried since is because he was so embarrassed about being used by her. You know what he's like, he's so sweet and kind underneath all that bluster, and I think once she realised that, she just totally took advantage of him. He worked every hour he could to give her everything she wanted and when she left he just kind of shut down. I think he blamed himself to start with and then realised how ridiculous the whole situation was, probably thought that everyone was talking about him behind his back. Which we weren't, obviously." She stopped to take a breath. "Anyway, it basically just ruined his trust in people. So he started using work as a way to stop seeing anyone, and pretty much has done until now. You do see glimpses of the old him when he's with you though. He's coming back."

She nodded without really thinking about the last statement. Camille was beginning to understand a little more about Richard's social awkwardness, his reticence to have drinks with the team, his complete inability to let any of them in. Her poor, sweet, gentle, pedantic and sometimes very annoying Richard. It angered her that someone had used him so badly.

Both of her drinking partners caught her look and smiled, they could see that if anything, Jules' little speech had made Camille more determined to break Richard out of the cocoon he had built for himself. Camille was suddenly aware that she had hijacked the evening. She turned her attention back to Jules.

"How long have you been with Jamie anyway?"

"Three years." She became embarrassed. "We were friends before we got together, he told me afterwards he'd been trying to get the courage up to ask me out for a while."

"You must be glad he did?"

She nodded shyly.

Camille felt her phone vibrate in her bag. She apologised and rooted around until she found it.

Let me know when you're downstairs and I'll come and get you.

She replied quickly

Here already...

"Richard?" She nodded. "I give it two minutes before he's here trying to rescue you from us." Camille giggled.

Sure enough 90 seconds later Richard appeared in the bar looking a little wary. He spotted them and came over.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were early."

"It's fine." Richard was looking at Camille with an expression of diffidence which quickly faded when he realised that he was being studied by the three women at the table. "Um, shall we go to the table? I don't know if mum and dad are there yet, but probably best if we don't keep them waiting."

Jules and Lucie sauntered out giggling and clutching bottles and glasses. Camille and Richard followed at a slightly more sedate pace.

He looked bashful. "I'm sorry about tonight. It's not exactly what I wanted."

"What did you want Richard?"

"Something a little more intimate."

"Intimate?"

"Oh God I didn't mean, you know like that."

"Why not? What's wrong with me?"

"I...nothing. I just meant that I wasn't expecting anything..., you know that dinner's fine...on its own."

She giggled and took his arm. "Relax Richard. We'll see how dinner goes first." He blushed fiercely as they came out on to the terrace. He was saved further embarrassment from her by a new voice. One that Camille hadn't heard before.

"Hello darling, ohhhhh and you must be Camille!" A new voice joined in the ever growing throng. A woman wearing the most hideous pair of shorts covered in various exotic fruits was making her way over to them. She caught sight of Richard's blush. "Oh dear, have I come at a bad time?" She turned to Camille. "He was always constantly embarrassed by everything when he was small too...you haven't been whispering sweet nothings into his ear have you?" Richard blushed even more fiercely debated for a moment about whether it would be better to contest her last statement or let it go, then managed to recover some composure. He looked pained and swallowed hard before making the introduction.

"This is my mother."

"And he's probably told you all sorts of dreadful lies about how dotty I am."

"No, I hadn't quite got round to that yet, but you seem to have done a pretty good job anyway."

"Don't be rude darling, it doesn't suit you. Come along!" She walked back to the table, shouting over the throng of the other diners who all stopped to look at her much to Richard's further dismay. Camille tried to hold back a laugh, failing miserably.

Richard caught her eye and glared at her. "Not one word."


	11. Chapter 11

During dinner Camille had found herself studying Richard's parents more than she had thought she would. All three children clearly took after their mother, the resemblance between them was apparent for all to see, their open faces, their beaming smiles (at least on two of them), even their hair. Only their eyes came from their father. But Richard's mannerisms differed to the others. While Jamie and Lucie had the easy manner of their mother, happy to make friends easily, Richard was clearly closer in nature to his father, shy and reserved, preferring to sit back and listen while other regaled him with stories that he had missed out on while he had been away. That wasn't to say that he was reticent, for the most part he was happy to be goaded into a friendly argument if they wanted it, but he happier still to let them have the limelight, getting his enjoyment from watching them take centre stage. Baiting their big brother seemed to be an enjoyable sport for his siblings and he had spent the majority of the evening trying to defend himself against stories that for the most part involved him, usually to Camille's delight, doing something embarrassing. He was more sincere than they were but she saw that there was a twinkle in his eye that she hadn't seen much of before. She wondered not for the first time that evening if his eyes had perhaps burned a little bit brighter before she had known him.

She had been sitting in between Richard and Jamie and she had been grateful for it. After Jules' revelation she wasn't sure if she could go back to making polite conversation with her, there were too many unanswered questions. Jamie provided a safe option, a night of easy banter and an endless possibility of ammunition she could use on Richard.

"I'm sorry I wasn't downstairs when you got here."

"That's ok, where were you?"

Richard suddenly looked slightly embarrassed. "Um just with Jamie, upstairs."

It seemed that no conversation was private around the table as Lucie waded in. "You are such a liar! I bet you anything Camille, that he was in the bath."

Camille bit her lip and turned to him. "The bath? You take a bath in this heat?"

Richard shot his sister a filthy look. "Um yes, I don't have one at home. Look, I just thought it might be nice, you know. Relaxing. I don't get to have many."

She thought about this. "You know, I have a bath. I never use it but I still have one."

"So?"

"So, if you were that desperate you didn't have to wait for your family to come out to see you. You could have used mine..." Richard looked horrified. "Oh stop being such a prude. What do you think would have happened? That I would have burst in through the door and got in with you." His horror had turned to embarrassment and she could see even in the candlelight that his cheeks were burning. "Oh relax, I'm sure I wouldn't have seen anything through the bubbles anyway."

"I don't have bubbles!"

Camille was giggling and Jamie looked as though he was about to wade in to the conversation. Richard turned to him and used a finger to reiterate his point, "I do not have bubbles in my bath."

"Ok fine. You don't have bubbles in your bath."

"Thank you." Richard breathed a sigh of relief that was short lived as Jamie leant forwards towards Camille

"Except this one time Camille..."

"Noooooooooooo!" They both giggled.

"Maybe one for next time though," said Jamie winking at her.

Their mother cut in. "Why don't you get yourself a dog darling?"

"What ? How on earth is that relevant mum?"

"Because Jamie was about to tell Camille the dog in the bath story weren't you?" She was looking at Jamie who seemed unable to contain his mirth. Camille was incredulous.

"You had a bubble bath with your dog?"

"No! Well sort of. No, actually not really. I just...it got very wet. It sounds worse than it is." Camille flashed him the sort of look that made him want to the ground to swallow him up. "There wasn't anything else in the house and I didn't think that using some of the stuff we had in the bathroom would be too bad so I just put a load in and gave her a wash."

"Ok..."

"Oh my God, you're missing out the best bit!" Richard flashed his sister another look filled with brotherly loathing but she was too far away to kick. "Jamie came back to find him with a towel wrapped around his waist, stinking of expensive bath oil, while the bathroom looked as though it was bubble land."

"I didn't know how much you were meant to put in! Plus, she kept trying to get out, it was a nightmare trying to keep her in the bloody thing. That's why I was wearing a towel. I wasn't taking a bath with my dog, or having a bubble bath on my own."

"So, you've never had a bubble bath." She watched the blush spread across his cheeks again, clearly some distant memory or a girlfriend past was surfacing in his mind."

He tried to change the subject. "I bloody loved that dog."

"Oh here we go..." Lucie was playing a mini imaginary violin while Jamie impersonated Richard a little too theatrically. "The only female not to leave me, to love me unconditionally, through thick and thin...

Camille snuck a look at Richard and could see that he was giggling along before his napkin was removed from his lap and Jamie was throttled with it whilst still in his chair.

"I'm glad you find my utter failure at any semblance of a love life funny..."

"Only your very many recent failures. The heyday of you jumping out of a first floor window to avoid an angry father will be forever cherished in my mind..."

Richard choked on his wine and turned to Camille, "that was a very long time ago and nothing happened, he just got the wrong end of the stick."

"So you jumped out the window for no reason."

"Pretty much."

She gave him a small smile. "Somehow I don't quite believe you."

He smiled in return. "Your faith in my romantic skills are somewhat endearing but completely misplaced."

"Oh I don't know, you don't seem to be doing too badly." The last part had been spoken as a whisper, meant only for him as he felt a hand above his knee and blanched a little at the thought that the angle of her arm might be spotted by the others around the table. She kept it where it was though, her grip just firm enough for him to know that it wasn't a mistake, that it was meant to be there, her thumb stroking the outside of his leg gently. If Jamie noticed anything then he made no reference to it and Richard began to relax a little.

"So what's your story Camille?" She looked up to find that Richard's mother peering around the other side of her son.

"I'm sorry?"

"What's your story? Why are you here with Richard?"

"Mum!"

"I'm just asking darling, there has to be a reason, she's far too pretty for you."

Richard decided to ignore the fact that his mother had already assumed that they were in a relationship, hoping that by not drawing attention to it she would let it drop. He muttered "thanks very much," while Camille was trying to stop herself from laughing again.

"And she's French darling, it's very exotic."

"Oh my God." Richard was staring at the sky, willing the evening to be over. He hoped that this wasn't going to put Camille off too much, he quite wanted the opportunity of taking her out properly. He looked over and saw that she was still biting her lip giggling, perhaps it wasn't so bad after all.

"Boo...,time to stop, he's had enough." Camille heard the warning came from his father, the first time that he had deigned to get involved and the pet name for his wife took her somewhat by surprise.

"Oh I didn't mean it in a bad way, just that Richard's French is awful." She turned to Camille. "It's so funny, he hasn't really had any contact with the French since his French exchange."

"You had a French exchange? When was this?" She was looking at him excitedly.

He looked decidedly unenthused. "When I was at school. We all had to have them. They tried to match us up with people they thought were similar to us, but I ended up getting a sports crazed neaderthal."

"Is that why you stopped?"

Richard shook his head as his mother cut in again. "Oh no dear, I think he was too embarrassed by what happened that he could never bring himself to sign up to get another one."

"Mum, do we really have to tell Camille this story. Any chance you could leave me with a semblance of dignity at the end of the evening?"

Oh darling, learn to laugh a bit more. It's fun!"

"So what happened?"

"Oh, it's not a very long story, but I was getting ready for dinner with some friends and I was drying my hair and this little chap, Guillaume, I think his name was, pushed open my bedroom door thinking it was the bathroom." Camille looked confused but knew better than to ask as Annabel ploughed on. "Well it was so embarrassing because I was completely naked in front of the mirror. Poor boy. I don't think he'd ever seen anything like it. He stood there for a full five seconds not knowing where to look or what to do. And he couldn't speak very good English. I think he was trying to remember the words to apologise. In the end he just stumbled back through the door before I had a chance to reach for a towel. I don't think he said anything to me for the rest of his stay."

The entire table was hooting with laughter, and Camille found herself joining in, she couldn't help it. Richard's mother was a complete revelation to her, so fun and full of energy, a complete contradiction to Richard. She snuck a quick look at him and was relieved to see that he had a smile on his face and was chuckling quietly to himself. The passage of time had clearly erased a little of the emotional scarring that the incident had had on him.

She chided him gently. "And you never had another French exchange?"

"Oh come on, how could I? I was the guy with the naked mum! That stuck with me during my entire time at school. I thought Chinese was much safer, fewer people did it." She chuckled and the dinner continued in earnest.

***

The rest of the evening had passed in much the same vein, with Richard gamely fielding any shots that were lobbed at him. It had turned into quite an entertainment as far as Camille was concerned and was therefore with much reluctance that she had bid goodnight to them all after Annabel had practically force fed her chocolates, not taking no for an answer. It was a longish walk but it passed quickly and amicably enough and Richard was content to find that Camille's hand had found his way into his again.

"Why do you find your mother so embarrassing Richard?"

"You have seen the shorts haven't you?"

She giggled. "The shorts are fine, you're not embarrassed by those surely?"

"I suppose not. I mean, I've had a long time to get used to them, she's been wearing them since 1982."

"And they haven't worn out yet? Impressive."

"I know, it's a miracle. They really should have split at the back by now."

She gasped and hit him playfully. "You should respect your mother more Richard. She clearly loves you a lot."

"I know. It's just when you've had decades of stories like tonight, you sort of forget to laugh at them. She is amazing, she just sometimes doesn't know when to stop."

"Then perhaps you shouldn't let them annoy you so much. Loosen up a little, laugh. That's all she's trying to do." Richard nodded and they walked on in silence. He glanced over at Camille who looked as though she was deep in thought.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was just wondering what the cowpat story is about?"

"Ah." Richard had been hoping for something else, something perhaps a little deeper.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What's the cowpat story about?"

Richard smiled enigmatically at her as they arrived at her door and they paused as Camille decided what to do. Should she invite him in? Would he expect to be invited in? She didn't want to give him the wrong impression, but equally wasn't sure if she could hold out much longer.

"Can we save that for another night?"

She nodded and he could tell she was about to ask why. He sighed. "It's just, at some point I'd quite like to kiss you, and I think I might have a better chance if you don't hear that particular story."

She giggled and they stood on her doorstep awkwardly for a few more moments.

"Does that mean you're going to ask me out to dinner again?"

"Well, I was hoping that tomorrow might be ok?"

He knew the answer to his question before she spoke, her crestfallen face telling him everything he needed to know.

"I can't. I said I'd spend tomorrow with Maman. I'm sorry. I really want to." He nodded and they stood in silence, he didn't dare ask again in case she had used the mother as an excuse to get out of seeing him. It was finally Camille that spoke.

"I could do Friday? It might be quite busy because it's the weekend but if we went somewhere out of town we'd probably get a corner table or something..." He didn't reply and she suddenly felt as if he was going to turn tail and run. "Well?"

"I don't really know anywhere out of town, do you want me to look?"

"No that's ok, I know somewhere, just pick me up at 7." He nodded but didn't trust himself to speak without ruining the moment. "Well, I suppose I should say goodnight then."

He leant in to kiss her, his lips close to the corner of her mouth, she only had to tilt her head a little to draw him into a full on kiss. Their lips grazed momentarily before he broke away smiling. "I um, I'll see you on Friday?" She nodded mutely. He cupped her chin pulling her to him for one last chaste kiss. "Good." She was left at the door staring after him.


	12. Chapter 12

It was with some trepidation that Richard pressed the bell on Camille's door. He still couldn't quite bring himself to believe that he was going to dinner with her. His mother was right. She was far too pretty for him.

He hadn't spent long getting ready, but it was still longer than he would have otherwise have taken. He was nervous, the arrival of his family had meant that his wardrobe had expanded into something that could warrant preparation, even if it didn't usually and he knew that she would no longer view his suits as acceptable. He hadn't ever seen his clothing as something he needed to worry about, but tonight night he had panicked, pulling on a white cotton shirt and blue chinos, then changing his shirt to something he thought was more "island", then realising how ridiculous that made him look and changing back again. He stared at himself in the mirror. God he was boring. Blue and white. He wished he could be more exciting for her, but he supposed for now chinos and cotton would have to do, anything else might seem a little too try hard. There was always next time, wasn't there? He hoped so. He studied himself again trying to will confidence to run in his veins, to see what she saw, but to no avail.

The door opened and she was in front of him. Resplendent in a dress that he had never seen before, but which took his breath away. A long row of buttons lined her torso, the first few undone and to his mind veering dangerously low towards her cleavage, his eyes skimmed the join where the body of her dress gave way to a full skirt which ended just above her knee then skimmed back up to her torso again. Camille watched him and smiled when she realised where his eyeline had settled.

"Hello."

He gave a start, embarrassed that he had been caught checking her out so blatantly and dragged his eyes back to her face. "Hello." She took a step closer towards him and he could have sworn that he could hear his heart beat thump manically beneath his shirt. He could feel her hands on his chest now and was terrified of what was about to happen. But she sensed his reticence and slid her hands up to his shoulders, kissing him briefly on the cheek.

"You look incredible."

She blushed. "Really?"

He nodded and before he knew it her lips had found his, and suddenly all the reservations he had before about being seen or not ready suddenly vanished as his arms found her waist and he pulled her into him, her mouth opening a little more under the pressure of his. Her hands were everywhere, in his hair, on his neck, stroking his face all in turn and it was with a very large effort that he suddenly remembered to breathe.

He looked bewildered at her. "What was that?"

"Didn't you like it?"

"Yes of course I did! I was just sort of expecting it at the end of the evening rather than the beginning!"

She shrugged. "I know. But this way we don't have to think about it all evening, and you know that I want to kiss you. So you don't have to wait for the right moment, you can just do it."

Richard laughed and took her in his arms again, kissing her a little more gently this time. When they broke for air he held her close, his fingers woven through her hair and they swayed a little, the adrenaline running through them making them slightly unsteady. It was Camille who broke the silence this time.

"We should probably go, you know. We have a reservation." Richard murmured something but made no effort to move. "Richard?"

"I um, I just need a moment." She giggled and leant closer into him again, feeling his fingers tracing their way down her arm until they found hers.

The restaurant she had chosen was further out of town than his little house was, so they took a taxi, Richard panicking that the news they were going to a out to dinner together on a Friday night would be all over Honoré by the time it returned, but Camille seemed entirely calm. The restaurant itself seemed, from the outside to be nothing more than a beach shack that someone had converted into a makeshift restaurant and to his mind looked a little ramshackle. It was not somewhere he would have brought Camille to for their first date and he breathed an internal sigh of relief that this had been her idea and not his. Still, if it was somewhere she knew about then he was willing to concede that it probably had a good reputation. The seating had been arranged on the beach in a less haphazard manner than the shack itself, each table had its own space which Richard was grateful for, the last thing he wanted was people listening in on their conversation. The sand was bathed in both moonlight and candlelight and he was relieved to note that the whole set up was romantic without trying too hard. He began to relax a little but started a little when Camille took his hand and lead him to the entrance, still unsure if he wanted people to see them together, but if she noticed she said nothing, beaming at the maitre d as they followed him to a table at the edge of the dining area he handed them menus. However, once he had disappeared she looked over at him glaring.

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?"

"No, of course I'm not." Richard was beginning to squirm in his chair, unsure of what he had done to upset her.

"Then why are you acting like you don't want to be here?"

"I'm not! I didn't realise I was. I just..." he scrabbled around for the right words and realised that he wasn't going to be able to lie to her. "I'm just worried that people will think it's odd that you're with me. I don't want you to be embarrassed."

"Why would I be embarrassed?"

"Well, I haven't exactly got the best reputation on the island have I? Couple that with the fact that what we're doing isn't strictly within regulations is it?"

She smiled at him. "You still don't really get island life do you?" He looked confused. "It doesn't matter if we want to be together. We just have to make sure that we tell the commissioner and keep things professional in the office. Do you think you can do that?"

"Are you sure? I mean the regs say..."

"I don't care what the regulations say, and neither does anyone else out here! If we do our jobs well then that's all that matters. Ok?" Richard narrowed his eyes, not quite prepared to believe her just yet but decided to let her get away with it.

They ordered their food and drinks and in time settled into their usual stream of conversation. Richard was desperately aware not to talk about work but as the pauses grew ever longer to the point where even the background noise of the sea washing against the sand became intrusive, he thought he was going to have to bring it up. However Camille got in there first, evidently waiting for the right moment to bring up something a little more delicate.

"Why haven't you found the right girl Richard?"

He looked taken aback for a moment; fork stopped midair on the way to his mouth, confused at why she would want to know, then shrugged. "I don't really know. I mean I tried and then you know the last one just convinced me that it wasn't worth it."

She settled her features into something she hoped conveyed polite interest without being too nosey. He huffed. "I know you know Camille. Jules told me."

"Ah." She wrinkled her nose a little. "Sorry."

"It doesn't matter. It's probably more of a relief that I don't have to tell you. I'm not exactly good with that sort of thing." She nodded and he sighed realising that he wasn't going to get out of her question that easily. "I think part of the problem is mum and dad. They put out this perfect vision of marriage, it's sort of overwhelming." He paused. "You know I asked him once, about why he let mum get away with so much. "He said that after giving him 3 children and a creating a home for us all for almost all of his life that she was pretty much entitled to get away with whatever she wanted because he couldn't imagine his life without her. I mean she's given her entire life, for us. I just can't imagine any woman doing that for me." He paused, unsure of how to go on for a moment. "Anyway it wasn't too bad at first because there was no pressure; it was just about going out and having a good time."

"Like jumping out of women's windows?"

He smiled to himself. She realised she had broken his train of thought. "Sorry, carry on..."

"No, I mean it's nothing, all I was going to say was that there came the point when I realised that my parents were married and had already had me by the time they were my age, and it became this big thing. You know, I had to find the right one. And the more I wanted it the harder it was to find her. And now I'm in my 40s and I still haven't found anyone. I mean let's face it, I must have been pretty crap at it, I don't think I've ever ended a relationship on my terms. God I'm sorry, this is a pretty morbid conversation isn't it?"

"No, I think it's the most you've ever told me about yourself." There was a moment of contemplation between them. "Just out of interest what makes you think you're the only one who's ever had relationship problems?"

He snorted. "Oh come on, you're not honestly trying to tell me that you've found dating hard are you?"

"Yes I am. Why shouldn't I find it just as hard as you?"

"Oh yes, all of those hearts you've had to break along the way clearly weigh heavily on your conscience, do you carry them around with you in your handbag?"

"What makes you think I've broken anyone's heart?"

Richard didn't say anything but Camille clearly caught his drift. "What? Just because you think I'm pretty means that I've never had my heart broken?"

"Well..."

"What? So all my relationships haven't worked up until now because I've been too busy dumping people?

"Sorry."

"I've only ever dumped one person in my entire life and that was when I was 16."

"Seriously?" Richard looked incredulous.

"Yes, seriously." He looked up at her shyly, finally beginning to understand that they might be on more of an even keel than he initially imagined.

"You've really never dumped anyone?"

"Oh God please don't make this into a big deal I feel insecure enough as it is."

"No I'm not, it's just surprising. I mean, I can't imagine anyone stupid enough to never want to see you again."

She smiled shyly and he began to colour when he realised what he had said. "Well you know, I suppose I just haven't met the right guy yet." She looked at him hopefully and he held her gaze for a second before looking at the table and emitting an embarrassed cough.

She topped his glass up and watched as his took another sip. He put his glass down, "You know, I'm sure getting you drunk is meant to be my job..."

"Oh I have my reasons..."

"Which are?"

"I want to know about that cowpat story."

"Oh come on Camille, I thought I had already explained why I don't want to tell you..."

"Well we've already kissed now, and I'm not going to be put off that easily."

"Ok fine, but you have to remember that this happened a long time ago. I mean a really long time ago..."

She nodded her head sagely.

"Look it's really not that big a deal. Jamie and I wanted to blow some stuff up, so we put bangers in a cow pat."

Camille was looking confused. "Ok, how is that bad?"

"Because Jamie told me the wind was coming from a different direction than it was."

"So?"

"So I ran the wrong way."

"Oh." Then "OH! Oh my God that's disgusting!"

"I told you!"

"So why wouldn't you want me to kiss you?" He pursed his lips, willing her to put the pieces together. "Oh please tell me that you didn't get it in your mouth?"

He bit his lip, deciding whether to lie or not, but she was too quick for him. She threw back her head and roared with laughter.

"It's not my fault; I looked up at the wrong moment.

"Why did you open your mouth?"

"I honestly have no idea; I think I was probably screaming!"

He was at least grateful that he could make her laugh. Really laugh. Not the polite giggle that he had heard so often from her and indicated that he was vaguely entertaining, but the type where tears threatened to well up in her eyes and where people were looking.

He had spent the rest of the evening trying to make her do it again. Telling her every embarrassing story he could from his childhood, not caring how it would make him look, just wanting to hear her laugh again. The alcohol helped. He vaguely remembered finishing the wine and Camille having a cocktail, but he didn't care. It was with some reluctance that he paid the bill and gathered their things.

It wasn't far to walk back to Richard's and Camille took the opportunity to prolong the evening. She wasn't quite ready for it to end just yet. "Can I walk you home this time?"

"If you like." He wasn't prepared to admit it but he was fairly disappointed by her question. He had been hoping to take her back home himself, perhaps try that kiss on her doorstep again before bidding her goodnight. Nothing too forward, but something to establish their relationship a little.

The walk was everything he could possibly have wanted for them, cool, breezy, lit by stars, and yet he couldn't enjoy any of it. His mind was too preoccupied with thinking of a way to politely end the evening. Should he invite her in for a drink? Or ask her if she wanted him to call her a taxi? He desperately wanted her to stay but didn't want her to think that he was pushing her into something, even though God knows he wanted to. He had his arm around her, it felt better than he could ever have imagined, as she leant in to him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder, her hand looped lightly around his waist walking contentedly in silence.

When they were at his door he leant in to kiss her and she pecked him on the lips once then backed away. "You don't mind do you? It's just that story..."

"Which story?"

"The cowpat one..."

"Oh my God are you serious?"

She giggled mischievously. "No, not serious." He drew back to chastise her for her teasing before she pulled him into a longer kiss this time, one she had no intention of ending and he realised that both the drink and the taxi wouldn't be needed...


	13. Chapter 13

The kiss deepened to the point where it became greedy, with both vying for dominance over the other. Richard made a grab for the door handle, manoeuvring her roughly inside and up against the first piece of bare wall he could find, pushing himself hard against her, eliciting a moan from her as he did so. His hands were already roaming, playfully kneading and caressing in turn through the flimsy cotton of her dress, finally able to prove to himself that her breasts were as perfect as he had always imagined them to be. She pushed him back a little, breaking the kiss as she did so in order to locate the buttons on his shirt, fumbling at them in her haste to try and undo them. He watched her concentration with fascination, then shuddered as her hands ran over his chest causing him to reach for her again, tracing his mouth up her neck and along her jaw line back to her lips. His hands had worked their way down past her waist and were on the skirt of her dress now, stroking her through the material, inching the fabric higher until he was touching her skin. He ran his thumbs up the inside of her thighs and wondered briefly if things were moving too quickly, if she would try to stop him. He paused before he reached her knickers to give her an opportunity to do so.

Evidently things were moving at a pace suited to Camille but the location was no longer what she wanted. She gave another moan and pushed off the wall into him, slightly unbalancing them both given the position of his hands. He hitched her dress up and ran his hands over her bottom. He couldn’t think straight, only of how to get her to the next surface. He saw the desk out of the corner of his eye and managed to steer her towards it, she took the hint when she felt the wooden top press against the back of her legs and pulled herself up onto it. Even though Richard was still pressed between her thighs he felt that things were able to slow down a little now. There wasn’t the immediate rush that the wall had presented; the desk meant that they had time to explore. His hands were on her neck now, holding her while he kissed his way from her mouth down her jaw line, dipping his tongue in to the suprasternal notch and back up, his hands working their way down, over her breasts again towards her stomach pausing in turn over each button of her dress, undoing them with frustrating slowness. He worked the front of her dress open his hands stroking her skin briefly before she raised her arms as he pulled it away from her. Her arms came back down and she tried to encircle his neck as she pulled him back towards her but he wasn’t quite ready and held her at arm’s length while he drank in the sight before him. She was perfect. Long limbs and caramel smooth skin clad in the most simple and yet beautiful lingerie he thought he had ever seen. 

It was a moment of unguarded and shameless voyeurism strictly for his own pleasure and one which Camille took advantage of. He felt her hands on his waistband, pulling his open shirt loose, and was brought back to his senses. He looked down at her small hands fluttering at his belt, gently rubbing at the bulge that was straining to be released and panicked. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” 

She reluctantly stopped. “What?”

“We can’t do this. You’re drunk.” She looked at him in utter disbelief. He changed his tone. “Aren’t you drunk?”

“No. Are you?”

“No.” 

“Ok then.” She pulled his face back to hers and he was lost again. He marvelled for a moment at how eager she was, almost too eager. He stopped again.

“Are you sure you aren’t drunk?” 

“Of course I’m sure. Richard what is this? Why do you keep asking me if I’m drunk? I want to be here. I want this to happen, don’t you?” 

He thought that it was fairly obvious answer given the position they were in, but nodded vigorously.

“So what’s the problem then?”

“It’s just the desk. I didn’t really think that, well you know, we’d end up like this the first time we, um...I’m not saying that I thought we were always going to do this. It’s quite a shock. I mean it’s a lovely shock, I just thought....”

“Would you like to take me to bed Richard?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t mind, honestly. Um, would you prefer the bed?” He was beginning to feel like he’d ruined the atmosphere. 

She realised that he was nervous. She gave him a small smile which she hoped would set him at ease then said seductively, “I think we’ll have plenty of use for the desk later on don’t you? And perhaps that wall next to the door too...” She saw the surge in his confidence and wiggled her finger in his face. “You’ll have to carry me though, it’s a very long way away Richard.”

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

It wasn’t difficult for him to scoop her up; her legs were already partially wrapped around his body. He pulled her towards the edge of the desk, kissed her and gently caressed his way down so that his palms were at the top of her hips. She leant forward a little so that he could slide them under her and at once she was in his arms. He carried her giggling and laid her on the bed trying to extricate himself from the tangle that their limbs had created but her legs were still entwined around him pulling him forward bringing him crashing down on top of her. So this is what it finally feels like she thought, revelling in the feeling of having him on top of her at last, pinning her down to the bed. 

He lay looking down at her, trying to hold his weight off her, studying her face. Their pace had slowed down yet again and he felt at his most uninhibited, the alcohol and the familiar location doing wonders for his confidence. 

He knew what he wanted now and was no longer afraid to try and show her. He rose to his knees and leant over her, kissing the corners of her mouth. Their kiss was gentler than their last, now that he knew she wasn’t going to back down and leave him. He wanted her to enjoy it; for them to both enjoy it; for them to take their time and savour it. Her mouth opened again and she tried to wrap her arms around his neck to keep him close, her tongue already tracing its way around the inside of his lips, trying to engage him in a more passionate kiss. He gently disengaged her arms, pinning them above her head, holding them there until she got the message that he was in no rush. She reluctantly stilled, realising that it was about more than quick fulfilment now. He allowed her tongue into his mouth though, tasting her, teasing her, before pulling away and continuing with his infuriatingly slow kisses, caressing her with his lips, moving to her ears. He had no idea what she wanted or liked, but he was patient and a very willing participant in the experiment he was about to take part in. He nibbled on her ear lobe drawing a gasp from Camille. So the ears are good then he thought to himself. He sucked a little harder and drew a moan from her this time as she tried to reach for him again, he backed off, out of reach but could barely hold in his own ragged breathing as he realised how much her pleasure turned him on. 

He felt her squirm beneath him and planted a kiss where the ear meets the jaw line; trailing more along her bone structure up towards her other ear, mimicking his most recent exploits. She was less responsive on this side. Interesting. Richard wished for a moment that he had a notebook so that he could commit his findings to paper for future use, then dismissed the idea as wildly unromantic and certainly not something that Camille would easily forgive if she ever found out that the thought had crossed his mind. He would have to commit them to memory instead. He continued with his experimentation, dragging his tongue down the side of her neck where he knew her artery lay just beneath the skin. He imagined that he could feel her pulse quicken with the expectation of things to come but dismissed the idea as fanciful. Moving his lips along her clavicle he relished the feel of hard bone under soft skin, progressing across her body, still careful to keep his weight off her. He was barely touching her, heightening any sensation that he had with her through his lack of contact. He stopped again at the dip between her collar bones, at the base of her neck, drawing out the triangle with his tongue, hearing her breath hitch again, and he made another mental note for the future. He kissed his way up to her chin and back down again, remembering to taste her skin, trying to commit to memory every one of his own sensory reactions, before continuing his journey across her body to finish a mirror image of where he started. 

He stopped to adjust his position, sliding his body down the bed, settling himself, letting her know that he wasn’t going anywhere but equally that he wasn’t moving back either, nuzzling the tops of her breasts each in turn, stopping where the lace of her bra touched her skin. He knew already that this was already something she enjoyed; she had been too vocal before when he had felt them earlier but was still surprised by the voraciousness of her reaction to a more gentle touch. She had started to mutter a little, not much that he could understand and certainly not enough to put him off, but he knew it was in French and was strangely proud of himself that he could illicit such a quick and powerful response from her purely through his restraint. 

He sat back to admire the woman before him, stroking his hands over her stomach almost with reverence then reached down with his hands and pulled back the cup of her bra exposing her nipples. They lay before him, beautiful and poised, so like the rest of her, his for the taking as she tried to arch her back underneath him, forcing them towards his mouth. He smiled, but wasn’t ready to give in to her demands just yet, this being the one area where her influence over him would go unheeded. Instead, he used the opportunity to reach behind her and unhook her bra, drawing the straps from her shoulders and arms in an unhurried motion, leaving her almost completely naked and utterly exposed before him. He was captivated by what he saw. Small and perfect, they reflected the elegance and grace of her body as a whole. He ran his hands over them in wonder then descended to them again, eager to see what they tasted like. He kissed around them, drawing his tongue to the underside of her breast first, grazing his teeth over the soft sensitive tissue there, not enough to cause any pain, but judging by the soft whimpers now emanating from Camille he was doing something right. 

He alternated in turn; keen that neither breast should be left out from his efforts for long. Where his tongue was busy, his hand also joined in the exploration; the other propping him up on the bed; gently cupping what he couldn’t take into his mouth, the back of his hand caressing every inch of her and trailing over the edge of her rib cage. He ran a thumb over her nipple amazed at how it seemed to harden still further at his touch, gently rolling it between his fingers. This area had so far had remained untouched and he had taken great delight in teasing her, placing his mouth over her areolas, judging her reaction as she had arched herself into him again, silently begging him to use his tongue, falling back again when he had refused to. He looked up at her, quickly gauging how much more she could take, saw her look of frustration mixed with excitement and elation, her hand caught in her hair, her teeth biting her lower lip and decided to give in. His flicked his tongue over her once and the electric shock that went through her was almost enough to unbalance him as her body crashed into his. He flicked again and her hands descended to the back of his head this time, unable to restrain herself any longer, pinning him into position. She pulled at his hair and pushed him down in turn, using the friction as a release for her own excitement as his tongue continued to circle her, her breath hitching and mixing with her cries when she pushed him so hard that his teeth accidentally brushed up against her too. He decided that he quite liked the way her body had reacted and made an effort to recreate it, eliciting another decidedly more engaged response as a reward for his efforts. 

All too soon, he realised that there was more to be done. He knew that all his attentions to her, whilst were getting the right reaction, weren’t enough to ensure what he wanted to give her. He also knew that he wasn’t going to last long and he was dammed if he was going to end their evening with his satisfaction and not hers. Reluctantly, he removed her hands from his head and her breathing quietened again. Intent on building up anticipation he skirted his hands over her stomach, breathing in the scent of her, interested to note the mixture of perfume from her upper body with the more musky aroma that was beginning to engulf him. He wanted to spend more time in this one area, to try and explain to her that it would be all that mattered to him in the future, but pushed his thoughts to one side, certain that now wasn’t the right time to try and express anything close to sentiment. 

He ran his hands over the top of her knickers, slipping a finger underneath the elastic, testing both his resolve and hers. He had shifted down the bed yet again, wanting to be close to her, to experience her body’s reaction to him. He looked up again and saw the tension building in her face as before and knew they were nearly there. Circling the small piece of black lace before him, he put his face to her long and very lithe thigh and tasted her skin there too, hearing her gasp of excitement and feeling her wriggle beneath him as she tried desperately to direct his mouth up still higher. He kissed up to her hips, taking the edge of the material into his mouth this time and tugging on it teasingly. The wriggling stopped momentarily and was replaced by a bucking motion. He repeated his actions on her other hip and was delighted with the response he received there too. He could have gone on, could have covered her entire body with kisses, from the tips of her toes upwards but suddenly knew that it was time or at least almost time. His fingers found the material of her knickers again and pushed underneath, further this time, encountering the familiar feel of slight coarseness of hair and heat. The muttering was louder now and he had an idea that she was actually swearing at him. 

Almost holding his breath he ran his thumb down the length of her, causing her to shudder and gently pushed his finger inside, building a rhythm, adding another when he thought she was ready. She was already bucking into him but he was frustrated by the hindrance the material of her underwear was creating around his hand and slowly removed himself. 

He was rewarded for his efforts when Camille tried to sit up. “Why are you stopping?” He almost laughed from her frustration and impatience and dropped a kiss on her stomach, gently taking the side seams of her underwear in his hands and pulled, shifting on to his side to enable him to remove them completely from her legs. With a satisfied sigh, Camille dropped on to her back again. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up for. He ached for her, could quite easily have made love to her quickly and passionately when they had first moved to the bed. But he was determined that Camille should remember this. Should remember him. He slid his hand back to her again and this time didn’t enter her, but rubbed gently, surprised suddenly by the cry that came from her. He kept the pressure up, knowing she was close and bent his head towards her, desperate to be part of her experience again, to taste her and to know her. His tongue touched where his hands had just been and she seemed to explode beneath him. He hadn’t held on to her hips and the force of her reaction had pushed him away slightly. He tried to get back to her, determined to hold on this time but she stopped him with a moan that he had no problem understanding.

“Oh God, stop, please!” 

He was away from her again quicker than he realised he could be. Looking up at her with startled eyes, trying to work out what he had done wrong. He thought that he been what she wanted. The arching of her hips, the increased breathing. He was mortified that he had misread her so badly. 

She was breathing heavily. “Richard please, not like that. Not the first time. I want to be with you. Please...” He nodded, knew that he wanted the same, was grateful that she had stopped him, despite his the need to have her in his mouth. Everything else could come later. He moved up the bed quickly and took her in his arms again, more passionate than before, his lust for her now too great to ignore. He felt her pawing at his shirt and realised that he was still almost fully dressed. It was quickly disposed of but he had forgotten how adept she was at self defence and all too soon he found himself on his back, the button and fly on his trousers deftly dealt with, her hands already pulling at his waist band in an effort to slide them off his legs. He helped her by lifting himself up off his hips, enabling her access to the material that was trapped against the bed and she tugged removing his socks in the process until all that was left were his boxers. 

If their actions were frantic before then Camille made an effort to slow them down again, suddenly shy by the hardness that she had uncovered and the thrill of seeing him for the first time. Copying him from before she dipped her fingers beneath his waistband, stopping abruptly when she felt her hand come in contact with the head of him. He jumped a little at the feel of her and tilted his head back in the pillows, willing her to stop her exploration before it was too late. 

Repeating the motion of his hips, his shorts were removed, catching on him once, the feeling of material against him a welcome relief, giving him the opportunity to calm down slightly. She took him triumphantly in her hands stroking him once to get the feel of him and watched his reaction turn from one of surprise to rapture and then unbridled lust. It took all of his self control to stop himself from coming in her hands, he wanted nothing more than his own release and the enclosed fist she had made around him felt too good. But she let him go, giving him the opportunity to stare at the ceiling for a moment to catch his breath. By the time he looked back she had already placed her hips above his. 

“Is this what you want?” He was initially perplexed by her question then understood that she was giving him a choice. He usually wouldn’t have minded but in this instance knew that he wanted something closer than what she was offering. He shook his head and drew her to him for one more kiss before gently manoeuvring her on to her back, his need to feel his skin against hers, her breasts rubbing against him, to have her completely in his arms overriding everything else. 

He kissed her again and her legs parted, the most wonderful invitation that he had ever received, and he guided himself in slowly, stopping for a moment to calm himself for the last time and let her get used to the size of him, the feeling of having him inside her. Her tightness and wet heat enveloped him and he was grateful for the lull, realising that he needed a moment to get used to her too. He stole a glance at her and was relieved to see that her lips were parted, he hoped in enjoyment and lust that mirrored his own. Her eyes were half closed, but she returned his gaze and knew he was preparing himself for more to come. When he did begin to move he was gentle, his lack of speed born out of the need for longevity, but the moans he elicited from her proved to be too much and a new tempo was quickly set. To his surprise he found himself more than capable of it, if truth be told he had been worried by his lack of practise in the intervening years between partners but his body seemed determined to prove that he was able to last as long as he needed to this time. 

Camille began to move with him, bucking her hips up into his, building their rhythm together into a frenzy of limbs and lips and hands. She was more vocal than he ever could have imagined and it encouraged him to do the same. It was the first time she had heard her name on his lips like this and it drove her closer to the edge. All too soon she needed more, and instinctively he pushed her leg up, his hand gripping her as he held her into position, allowing himself more access to her, enabling him to drive harder and deeper than before. She let out another gasp of delight and pulled him towards her so she could feel his tongue back in her mouth if only for a few moments. He could feel her start to grip him, as the beginning of her orgasm took hold. He didn’t have much left to give but gave her everything he had, spurred on by the litany of French that she couldn’t seem to stop and the way his name tumbled out of her lips as she arched her back one last time and finally gave in to him. 

He didn’t need much more of an incentive than the feeling of her pulsate and close around him, drawing him in to her further and he swore once, calling her name, leaving her in no doubt that he was about to follow her as he could barely stop himself sprawling on top of her in his ecstasy...


	15. Chapter 15

She felt him leave the bed and woke from her doze with a start. But he wasn’t away long and she soon felt the mattress dip under his weight again as he climbed back into bed beside her, slipping his arms back around her gently, still under the false belief that she was asleep. 

She clung on to his arm. “I thought you were leaving.”

“Shhhh. Don’t be silly.” Then as an afterthought. “I didn’t wake you did I?” He nuzzled her neck and the top of her spine again, the gentlest of goodnight kisses.

“Mmmmm.” Richard continued to kiss down her back, hoping that he was lulling her to the verge of sleep again. He was therefore somewhat put out to find her giggling. 

“Why are you laughing?” 

“It tickles.” She was still drowsy but Richard continued his ministrations. 

“Noooooooooo, sleepy! Stop it!” He had added his hands now, working his fingers over her waist and lower back. “No stop it, please!” He was perplexed as to why she wanted him to stop so badly, but nevertheless stilled. 

She rolled over and a look of vague annoyance crossed her face. “You can’t make me laugh Richard.” 

“Why not?”

She bit the inside of her lip in mock annoyance and simply said “because” as she scooted over the bed and moved quickly into the bathroom herself. 

Richard had now given up on all pretence of getting back to sleep. He was sure that it would come soon but he was too keen to see Camille naked again to feel tired. Most of all he didn’t want fall asleep without her in his arms. He’d already done that. He’d spent the past year doing that and he hoped that he would never have to do it again. He had been mildly concerned that when she reappeared she might have been embarrassed enough by her nakedness to pick something out from the laundry basket, which once would have been as sexy as hell, but now that he had seen her naked, he didn’t want her any other way. His anxiety however was short lived as she moved towards the bed as unclothed as she had been when she had left it. The moonlight caught down one side of her body and for the first time Richard was grateful that his shutters didn’t completely block out all light. It seemed impossible but the effect only served to make her more beautiful, she was both ethereal and wraith like in the white light. He lay there watching her as she came closer. She knelt on the bed, then lay on top of him entirely, intending on rolling over him and back into sleep. She hovered over his face for a moment, planting a sleepy kiss on his lips, but before she could complete her roll she found that he had placed both his hands on her, effectively pinning her into position. He kissed her again then gave her a mischievous smile. 

“What is it?”

“Hop on then...” He inclined his head a little and raised his eyebrows quickly, knew he was being cheeky. 

She bit back a smile and pretended outrage. “Richard Poole! When did you become so forward?”

“Says the naked woman straddling me...” she tried to look annoyed but knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on. Instead she attempted to distract him by kissing him. 

“So you think I’m forward?” 

“I didn’t say that.” He was finding it difficult to talk while her mouth was over his. 

“Don’t you like it when I’m forward?” 

“I didn’t say that either.”

He closed his eyes and allowed the sensation of her breasts trailing over his skin to overwhelm him. He gave a groan, followed quickly by a sigh just managing to string a coherent sentence together. “Don’t tease me.” He hadn’t been ready for sleep but there was no way that he was ready for round two just yet either. 

She smiled up at him. “So you can dish it out but you can’t take it...”

“No, I just want to have some energy left over for the rest of the weekend....”

She looked coy. “Are you planning on keeping me prisoner here until Monday morning?”

“No, not really, I mean, unless you want to stay here. I’m meant to be playing tennis with Jamie tomorrow so I probably should get some sleep...”

She bit his shoulder in annoyance and he laughed, rolling her into his arms in an effort to make her stop. 

“Enough! I might still have to go swimming with them.” 

“And after swimming?”

“After swimming I’m all yours provided you can’t see any of your handiwork above my collar.”

She giggled and snuggled down into his arms her hand resting on his chest. “You know I’ve never heard you laugh so much. It’s nice.” 

“If it helps, I’ll go back to being grumpy at work, just to keep the status quo...”

“I wouldn’t bother, my mother will know.” She knew what he was thinking and answered his unspoken question. “She always knows”

He made a face of reluctant acceptance. “She won’t make a big deal about us will she?” Camille pressed herself closer to him at the mention of the word us, grateful that he was at least thinking of the future.

“I don’t think so, she won’t want to scare you off...” 

“I think it might take more than your mother to do that.” 

She smiled and stretched a little intending on wrapping her legs around his and encountered something at the end of the bed. “What is that?” 

He followed her example and stretched his leg out feeling for the offending item. He sighed. “If I’m not mistaken that is your underwear, and you’re very lucky it’s still in one piece.”

“It better had be, that’s my best underwear.” She saw the look that he was giving her and suddenly became self conscious realising what she had said. 

“Your best underwear? That rather implies that you were expecting me to see it Camille...” 

She changed tact quickly. “Well not my best, just everyday stuff really.” Her flippancy held no tenure with him. 

“Everyday stuff? So you wear that at work?” 

“No of course not!”

“So not every day stuff?” She huffed annoyed that her brain wasn’t working so late at night and grudgingly shook her head in annoyance. “Now that is a shame.” He fished around with his feet at the bottom of the bed again. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Well if that’s your best underwear, and it was, from memory, very beautiful Camille, then I want to see it again...” 

She snatched it away before he could reach it and threw it away from them. “If you’re very lucky I’ll buy some more.”

“That’s as maybe, but I’ll be equally as lucky if you never wear any again.” Then added as an afterthought, “perhaps I should keep you here this weekend and confiscate your clothes.” 

“You could. But I’d only wear yours instead.”

Richard said nothing but held her closer and prayed that she wouldn’t notice that his heart rate had quickened at that particular idea. He needed to end the conversation before it took a different turn. “You know, if it’s any consolation, I wore my lucky pants too.” 

“I thought you didn’t believe in that?” 

He shrugged, implying that he would have done anything to have ensured this outcome with her, realising and worrying too late that it might make him look desperate. He changed tact again. “It’s late, we can talk about your underwear or lack of it in the morning.”

“Spoilsport.” She kissed him. “Goodnight Richard,” she turned away from him again, pressing her back against his chest, her bottom into his pelvis. 

“Goodnight Camille. Then as an afterthought, “Oh Camille?”

“mmmm.”

“I...um...nothing. Sleep well.”

***

He woke to find her watching him, her hand stroking his face . 

“Morning.” He wanted to kiss her, wanted to reply at the very least but was paranoid that he had morning breath. Luckily she sorted that for both of them and pulled him towards her. Her lips found his, kissing him in a manner Richard thought was more suited to last night’s activities rather than this mornings, but he wasn’t complaining. He was ready for her, had been ready before he had woken, but Camille had other ideas. 

“I’m going for a shower.” She pushed him away and he shifted to allow her to clamber over him to the edge of the bed, trying to keep the look of disappointment off his face. She looked back before getting out completely. “Aren’t you coming?” The smile was back, as he saw her disappear through the door. First things first though. He grabbed his phone intent on texting Jamie to let him know that he’d be a little later than planned. 

He turned it on and it immediately sprang to life a text flashing up on the screen. 

Don’t know how last night went but Lucie’s on her way, hide or run. J

It was sent at 9.45am. Richard checked the watch on his bedside table, it was just past 10am. There wasn’t much time, she would be here soon. The only thing to do was to pretend they weren’t there, it was easier than dragging Camille out of the shower, effectively curtailing the morning’s entertainment before it had even begun, something he wasn’t about to do. He rose quickly, grabbing his boxer shorts in case she arrived earlier than he anticipated. He swiftly attended to the shutters locking them firmly before moving to the doors, fastening those too. With a bit of luck Lucie would think that he had already left for the morning. As a final precaution he turned off his phone and rummaged in Camille’s bag to make sure that hers was off too. He cast one final look around, the shack was dark and already sweltering in the morning sun. Satisfied he headed into the bathroom. 

“What took you so long?” 

“Apparently Lucie’s doing some super sleuthing of her own...she’s on her way over, she wants to question me about how our date went.” 

“We should leave.” Camille was not keen on being caught out by his younger sister. She tried to get out and gave him a confused look when instead he stepped into the shower blocking her path. “What are you doing?” 

“I’ve taken care of it.” 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

The cubicle was smaller than he had anticipated, not uncomfortably small but there was very little room for them to move without touching each other. Camille was already pressed up against the wall, her body responding to the ceramic which was cold against her back, forcing her to arch herself into him. They heard a car. Richard turned the water off before the engine died and they waited in silence. 

The steam cleared a little allowing him to see the rivulets of water still flowing off her body into the tray below, the drops forming on her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, the mist still clinging to her hair. She was staggeringly beautiful. He held a finger against her mouth as they heard the doors and shutters being rattled. 

“Hello? Richard, are you in there? Your car’s still outside!” 

Camille had started to giggle and Richard pressed to her closer to try and convey the urgency of the situation. She opened her lips and began to kiss the finger still held against her, drawing it into her mouth. Her hands, pressed up against the wall behind her until now, were caressing and clinging to him in turn, pulling him in to her. He looked down at her when her tongue joined in the exploration of his finger and realised that she was looking up at him with what was rapidly becoming a familiar glint in her eye. He could feel his breathing quicken as he stifled a moan. The rattling and shouting continued for a few moments more as Lucie completed a circle of the house, even stopping at the bathroom window before he heard her mutter under her breath, probably trying the phone he thought smugly to himself. 

He prayed that she would go soon, Camille’s hands were now trailing up and down his back and flank, dipping dangerously close to where their bodies met at their pelvises, making it impossible for him to think of anything else. He could feel the heat radiate from her body, the thought of her arousal when he was barely even touching her made him ache for her. He wanted nothing more than to be part of it. He involuntarily pressed himself closer to her and she answered him by pushing back, grinding herself up against him, feeling him strain against her, finding the tension just as unbearable as he did. The water had almost completely evaporated due to the enclosed heat and in its place a trail of sweat was making its way slowly down her sternum progressing through her cleavage and on to the flat plain of her stomach. He was mesmerised. The roar of a car engine was all he needed as confirmation that Lucie had finally left and as Camille’s hand and mouth left his body to grasp for the shower dial he found himself unable to resist her anymore.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might consider this to be a filler chapter, but it was necessary to establish R&C's relationship with his brother a little. Plus, I like Jamie and he hasn't been in this enough....
> 
> Also - brotherly banter has a bit of swearing in it - sorry if you are offended by this - its Jamie's fault, he's a little less verbally restrained than Richard is....

Camille? What are you doing in there? I’ve got to go, I’m going to be late!

“My make up! She poked her head out of the bathroom, “I’m already walking home in last night’s clothes, you don’t want me to go out looking like a complete tramp do you?” She saw his look. “Don’t answer that.”

“You could never look anything close to a tramp.” He kissed her and whispered, “I’m sorry I have to go. Do you want me to drive you?”

She shook her head. “It might attract more attention if you drop me off in last night’s clothes, than if I walk home on my own accord don’t you think?”

He considered this and privately agreed with her. “Can I leave you to lock up then?”

“Of course.”

He hesitated then allowed his bravado to take over. “Can I see you later?” She giggled and nodded.

“I’ll be at Maman’s, let me know when you’re coming over?”

“And tonight?” She narrowed her eyes at his presumption and for a moment he was afraid that she was going to tell him that last night was lovely but that maybe they should take it slow. But she couldn’t keep up the pretence and drew him in for another long kiss.

The look he returned made her quite aware that he now definitely didn’t want to go to tennis, but she shooed him out of the door all the same.

It was only after he had disappeared that she opened his cupboard and surveyed its contents.

***

“You look pleased with yourself.” Richard ignored the jibe from his brother, throwing down his bag and unzipping his racket. Jamie tried again. “Good night then?” This garnered him a look which told him quite clearly that the night, good or not, was not up for discussion. On any one else it would have worked. It only achieved in making Jamie more interested. “Oh that good?”

“What does that mean?”

Jamie smiled when he realised how easy it was to get a rise from his brother. “It means you only ever tell me about success stories that come out of the blue or the times you manage to screw up sure things. I can only infer from your silence that even though Camille was a sure thing you managed not to screw anything up.”

Richard was going to ignore him but found he disliked the way Camille had been referred to. “She wasn’t a sure thing.”

“She was 100% a sure thing. You’ve been out of the game for too long.”

“It’s not a game Jamie.”

Jamie held up his hands. “Fine. Don’t tell me anything. It’s not like we used to talk...”

Richard huffed. “Alright! It was a good evening.”

“Good?” Richard bit back a smile and Jamie leapt on him with excitement. “You are back in the game!”

Richard pushed him away. “Get off! It’s not a game!”

“Alright, it’s not a game and you’re not back in the game, you still got laid!” He received a distasteful look at that last comment leaving Jamie unsure if it had actually happened. “Sorry.” He rifled through his bag getting his kit together. “Was she worth it?” Richard looked at him in confusion. “You know the whole sergeant/boss thing that you have going on...”

Richard nodded happily, his most private thoughts surfacing briefly then pulled himself together. “get down the other end then.”

“Seriously that’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Not even going to confirm if you actually got lucky?”

“Nope, it’s none of your business.”

“But I told you everything when Jules and I got together.”

“Yes, if I recall, I did actually ask you to stop.”

He hit the first ball over the net and Jamie lobbed it back effortlessly. They settled into a rally. “Oh come on it wasn’t that bad.”

“Actually that’s why it took me so long to be able to talk to future wife properly, i couldn’t look her in the eye when I first met her.”

“Oh. I just thought you fancied her.” They settled quietly into another rally and when that had ended Jamie piped up. “Another? Or are you ready for a game?”

“I’m happy with a game if you are.”

Jamie was smirking at him. “Have you actually played since you’ve been away?”

“Not really, pretty sure I’ll still win though.”

The smirk grew. “Want to make it interesting?

“How much?”

“Not money. Questions.” He answered the enquiring look. “Every time I win a point I get to ask you a question about last night.”

Richard mulled this over and came to the conclusion that the idea of Jamie winning was fairly remote. “One game only?”

“One game only.”

“I’m serving.”

He took his place at the end of the court and served, putting so much slice onto the first ball that Jamie didn’t manage to get anywhere near it. Jamie was incredulous. “I thought you said that you hadn’t played since you got here.”

“I haven’t, you’ve just forgotten how good I was before I left.”

Richard also won the next point easily: 30 love. The third point Jamie managed to claim back through sheer fluke, the ball hit the net and bounced over on to the other side making it impossible for Richard to get to in time.

“Shit.”

Jamie looked gleeful, then annoyed with himself. “I don’t know what to ask you.”

Richard almost lost his temper. “That’s because you’re not a woman! Jamie, just let it go. We had sex. It was great, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“So you admit it?”

His frustration boiled over. “Yes! Is that ok? I don’t need to answer any of your stupid questions.”

“Oh but you do.”

“What?”

“You said I could ask them, but I didn’t tell you when.”

“Yes you did, you said you would ask them if I lost a point.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say I would ask them after each point. I’ve got to think of them.” He looked exceptionally pleased at outwitting his brother.

Richard suddenly envisaged a barrage of embarrassing and probing questions when they weren’t so alone and his face fell. “No....you have to ask them now.”

“Sorry Richie, a deal’s a deal.”

The game suffered monumentally after that. Richard lost two more points before pulling himself together and clawing back a victory. They settled into another thankfully more normal game and as predicted, proceeded in humiliating his brother on the court for the next three games.

His relief and victory however was short lived when Jamie reverted to subterfuge making it clear that he wasn’t going to let the subject drop.

“So Lucie said she thought someone was there when she went around this morning...that she thought there was someone in the bathroom?” Richard missed the ball he was about to serve. “Makes me wonder why you didn’t want to see her...”

Richard had had enough. He aimed a body shot at his brother, designed to get him to shut up. He didn’t mind the questions or the banter, but this was tennis. The one game he had had since he had arrived, and he wanted to enjoy it. It hit home but not entirely where he had aimed. He could only watch as his brother doubled over, keeling on the court, pain etched over his face. Richard sprinted over.

“God I’m sorry!” Jamie was still on his knees, catching his breath, unable to speak. After he’d recovered a little more Richard helped him over to a bench where one brother sat curled up in the fetal position and the other next to him looking suitably contrite.

Jamie could barely breath but seemed keen to get one thing straight. “You’re such an arsehole.”

“I know I’m sorry. I wasn’t actually aiming there.” Jamie snorted and went back to silence, unable to string any more coherent thoughts together until he had recovered more. After a couple more minutes it looked as though the pain was subsiding enough for him to talk properly.

“Was that really necessary?”

“I’m sorry, you were just being so...annoying and you wouldn’t shut up.”

Jamie was silent, trying to work out how to phrase his next statement. “I’m just happy that you’re happy again. And it’s nice that I don’t feel guilty about being happy anymore. You know, Camille’s nice, even Lucie likes her and you know how overprotective she gets.” They both took a moment to remember some of Lucie’s extreme ways of getting unsuitable women out of their lives. “It’s what everyone’s wanted for you for ages so I suppose I just wanted you to talk about it.”

Richard was beginning to understand a little more about Jamie’s need for information but there was one thing he couldn’t quite grasp. “Did you really feel guilty about being happy?” Jamie shrugged and Richard started aimlessly out in front of him, this new information sinking in slowly. “God, I’ve been a really crap brother haven’t I?”

“No you’re fine – well, you’re fine now. Almost. Providing this pain goes away.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like you’ve never been hit in the balls before.”

“I know, but this is different.”

“How is this different, it’s not like I’ve become the hulk since I’ve been away...”

“We’re um, we’re trying for a baby. I’m not sure why we started but Jules wants one and I like trying so...”

Richard put his head in his hands. “God I’m sorry.” Then realised what he had said, “not about the baby, obviously not about the baby. About the balls thing.”

“Yeah I’m not exactly in the most amorous mood I’ve ever been in...”

They sat in silence again, enjoying the shade that the trees around the court provided and the dappled sunlight that came through the branches.

“You know, I almost told her I love her last night.”

“Oh Jesus.”

“I know. I don’t think she noticed, I managed to stop before anything came out. Oh God I hope I did...”

“You are a moron, you know that don’t you.”

“Do you think it’s bad to tell her?”

Jamie tried to bite back a laugh. “Yeah, it might be a little strange on the first date...I’d try and hold off for a little. You know, unless you’re desperate to get married and have children.” His laugh escaped this time but when Richard didn’t answer it turned slightly hollow. He looked at his brother in amazement. “Is that what you want? With Camille?”

“I think so. I mean, I’ve wanted her for so long and last night was...well it just...” He scratched his head in frustration, unwilling to further discuss such intimate details with his brother.

“Is she on the pill? I mean, you know, you should probably check before anything else happens between you...”

Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I care either.” Jamie took a deep breath letting this new information sink in. Richard stole a look to his right and saw Jamie was smiling.

“Why are you smiling? I’m not joking.”

“I know I know. I wasn’t actually thinking about you, I was just thinking about Jules.”

“Oh.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like you haven’t been thinking about Camille all day. It’s pretty obvious that you don’t want to be here, and the more I think about it the more I don’t want to be here either. It’s too hot to play, you just rinsed me in a game that we never finished, and my balls hurt.”

Richard smiled in acknowledgement. “Are you ok to pick your stuff up?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. At least I will be until I tell Jules about how much pain I’m in. I’m pretty sure she’ll be very understanding...”

Richard couldn’t pick his things up fast enough but shook his head at his brother’s plan. “You are reprehensible, but as long as you don’t tell me anything I don’t care.” He practically ran off the court and towards home for a shower shouting his goodbyes behind him.


	17. Chapter 17

Showered and changed he send Camille a quick text.

_Driving to La Kaz, see you in 10?x_

On the receiving end, Camille smiled as she realised that the customary R at the end of his text had been changed to a kiss. 

_Yes!  Come quickly, our mothers are bonding...oh and those shorts are on display again! xxxxx_

Richard smiled himself at the plethora of little xs he received in return, then took in the contents on her message and felt his previous buoyant mood depress a little as he climbed into the land rover. 

***

Camille met him outside as he pulled up. 

“Hi.”

He returned her gaze but not her greeting, too absorbed at taking her in again after an afternoon away from her.  He drank in her features, reacquainting himself with the lines of her face, the colour of her eyes, the way her hair fell around her cheekbones.  He took a step towards her, then stopped realising what he was about to do. 

She shook her head in agreement.  “Not here Richard.”   

To his shame, he actually looked at the alley that ran behind la Kaz and turned crimson, but Camille didn’t seem to mind, she was already ahead of him looking back over her shoulder to make sure that he was following.  He cast a look left, then right, confirming that no one on the street was remotely interested in them, then followed. 

Giggling she had disappeared behind the stairs of a fire exit, hidden partially by a door way and was waiting for him.  It briefly crossed Richard’s mind that this was totally inappropriate and very unhygienic but he pressed himself up against her all the same, feeling her lips against his, her arms around his neck.  He needed this.  Needed her, before the rest of the afternoon and evening would have to be spent with hidden smiles and forbidden caresses. 

All too soon the kiss ended, his hands around her waist, their foreheads together their breathing heavy.   

He grinned at her.  “Miss me?”

“Of course not.  I have had a very interesting and fulfilling day with my mother, who by the way is very keen to see you, despite my insisting that nothing happened on our date last night.”

“And she of course didn’t see you walk home in last night’s clothes...”

“No, of course not.”  Her sarcastic reply brought to mind the memory of her mother loitering on the pavement in the pretence of talking to some of her local customers waiting for Camille to come home.  She also remembered  the raised eyebrow at last night’s dress, and the questions she had endured all afternoon.  “Did you miss me?” 

“Definitely not.”

She ran her finger down the zip in his trousers and he shuddered, his eyes closing involuntarily.  “So this how you always greet women you know?” 

“Kissing like a teenager down a dirty back alley?  Absolutely.”  He kissed her again.  “Camille?”  She nodded to show that she was listening.  “You have to stop doing that.”  He motioned down at her fingers still stroking the fabric of the front of his trousers.  “We need to go inside.”

Her fingers stilled, allowing his mind to focus on less pressing matters. In time he kissed her again and said, “after you.”

She straightened her clothes, gave him one last sly smile and marched off towards the street.

***

Catherine was at the door as he came in looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. 

“Richard!  I thought I heard the car pull up ten minutes ago.  Where have you been?”  He turned scarlet and tried to mutter something about going to the shops but it was such a blatant lie and Catherine gave him such a knowing look that he didn’t bother to finish it, trailing off and sloping away, hoping against hope that she would leave it there.  He moved further in and encountered his mother. 

“Hello Trendy, my darling!  Come and join us, Catherine’s been filling us in about the island.  There are the most amazing things to do that we’ve missed out on.  Don’t worry, lots for next time!”  Richard inwardly groaned at the fact that his mother felt the need to come back and further humiliate him.  He looked up and found Camille looking at him and he raised his shoulders in the form of a question.

“Trendy?”  It suddenly dawned on him that his mother had used his childhood nickname in front of everyone.  He looked at the cause of his humiliation in abject annoyance. 

“Mum!”

Annabel waved a hand at him dismissively, oblivious to his embarrassment.  “Oh sorry darling, sometimes I can’t help it, it just slips out.”

Camille could barely contain her glee.  “Why do you call him trendy Mrs Poole.”

Annabel patted Camille’s hand, “It’s Annabel, please dear!”  Richard groaned at this question, knowing what was coming, what his mother always brought up.  “Oh he just thought he was so cool when he was little.  Look, I’ll show you.  I’ve got it here somewhere!”  She hauled her handbag on to her lap, emptying the contents on to the table not caring what was on display.  Half eaten melted chocolate bars, snotty tissues, unfinished ink spattered and stained letters, a tax return from 2011 (which made Richard think that his mother would be arrested when she touched down in London), bits of broken pens and various flyers and tickets to tourist attractions on the island, including several excursions that Camille had wanted to take him on made their appearance.  Richard half expected some sort of self help book to make an appearance in order for his embarrassment to be complete.  Delving deep, she finally found what she was looking for in the form of a travel photo frame and opened it revealing photos of her three children.  “Ah ha, got it!  Look, wasn’t he adorable!” 

Camille was handed the frame and her mouth practically fell open at the little boy in the faded picture.  A huge smile on his face, he was wearing what were clearly his father’s huge black rimmed 1970s sunglasses.  

“This is you?”  She took in the image without looking at him. 

“Yes that’s me, have a good laugh, everyone else has.”

“But you were so cute!  This is amazing!”

“I suppose it’s all very ironic, given what I’m like now.”  He tried to snatch it off her, “now come on, give it here.”   She pulled her arm away.  “Camille!” she continued to ignore him, backing away, still looking at the photo.  He lowered his voice, hoping it would scare her into handing it over, “Sergeant Bordey!” 

“Don’t try and pull rank, I’m not giving it back!  What’s wrong with looking at it anyway, I’m not exactly going to forget that I’ve seen it as soon as you take it away from me.”  They were moving away from the table where their mothers were sat.  He gave in.  She was right, she’d seen it now, what difference would it make?  He watched her with amusement, noting her flush of excitement and wondering why on earth a photo of him when he was six would have this affect on her. 

“I bet you looked sweet when you were little too.”  She looked up to see a small smile on his face due to Richard trying to piece together an image of a small girl with ringlets of black hair and an infectious giggle.  Much the same as she is now then, he thought.  The image faded and he realised that he was no longer picturing Camille as a little girl, but another child standing next to her as an adult.

“Maybe...they’re not photos I want to show you though.” She sighed.  “Apparently getting me to wear clothes when I was small was difficult.”  He laughed and she looked indignant.  “Only until I was about four...”

He checked to see if anyone was close enough to hear, “Well then, that’s a trait that I intend to reinstate and then fully exploit when we’re alone...”  She grinned back at him until he could no longer hold her gaze and started staring at the table instead. 

His brow furrowed and Camille knew there was another question coming.  “What was your nickname then?  You know, when you were little.”

“That is highly classified information.”

He pondered this and nodded his head, “Oh right.  I’ll just have to ask your mother....”

“Fine!  For God’s sake don’t get her back over here, we won’t get rid of her again!  It’s not even bad, it’s definitely nowhere near as bad as Trendy is.”  He rolled his eyes at the name then gave her a look to indicate that he was waiting.  She rolled her eyes back at him, annoyed that she was having to share this piece of information so early on in their relationship.  “It’s Li-Li.”

“Li-Li?”

She shrugged.  “I told you it wasn’t bad.”

He conceded that she might be right on this occasion.  “It’s quite sweet actually.”

“Don’t get any ideas Trendy...”

***  
   
The two women watched their children, still deeply engrossed in talking about the photo that Camille was holding and baby names. 

Catherine turned to Annabel.  “Well played.”

Annabel raised her glass.  “There’s nothing like a good baby photo to plant an idea, don’t you think?  Now all we have to do is keep our fingers crossed!”

Catherine raised her glass in return.  “I will certainly drink to that!”

They sat in quietly for a little while before Annabel chose to break their self imposed silence.  “Do you remember what it was like?”

“Being in love?”

“Feeling new.”

Catherine mulled over the question.  “It was a long time ago.”

“Mmm.”  Annabel took another sip of her drink.  “I suppose if anything it makes you wonder if the man you married, always snored and had nasal hair, or if you’ve just gotten used to it over the years.” 

Catherine laughed. “And it is for that precise reason that I never remarried.”

Annabel picked up her drink again.  “To toyboys then and the everlasting joy of a goodnight’s sleep that one might bring!” 

“I’m not sure that I’d be after a good night’s sleep if I had a toyboy Annabel...” They both clinked glasses and collapsed into giggles again.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sunglasses I had in mind were 1976 Rayban Olympic sunglasses – so cute on a 6 year old!


	18. Chapter 18

Jamie and Jules were late, and when they did finally turn up Jamie was looking smugger than Richard had seen him for a while. It wasn’t wholly unexpected from what they had been discussing earlier, but it still annoyed the hell out of him given that he had had to spend the entire afternoon in the bar with both his and Camille’s mother. Thankfully they had left them alone, but he had still felt as though they were under constant supervision. Their entire interaction up until now had been a series of longing looks, shy smiles and the occasional “accidental” touch of a leg brushing up against its opposing number. He looked at Jules, her facial expression was decidedly more angry. 

Camille looked up when she saw them approach. “How was tennis?” 

“Oh you know, fine.” He then caught sight of Jules glaring at Richard and remembered he was meant to be in pain. “I mean for a while, before I had to stop. Groin injury” 

“It was slightly more than a groin injury Jamie.” Jules’ voice changed the atmosphere completely and Camille looked confusedly at Richard who during their entire afternoon together had neglected to inform her that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She knew it was something bad when he failed to look her in the eyes. 

“Do you want to explain yourself Richard?” She now turned her anger to Richard.

“Not particularly.” 

“What did you do?” He looked up and saw Camille. The last thing he wanted to do was to have to explain himself to her. 

“I, um, I hit Jamie in the um...” he made a circling motion around his own groin area. 

“The balls?”

“Yup.” 

“Why would you do that?” 

He was having difficulty keeping his cool, but knew that if he answered her question honestly he would open them both up to even more unwanted curiosity. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to, things got a little out of hand. Can we just drop it?”

“No we can’t just drop it Richard, you can’t just go around venting your frustration out on people like that.” Jules had started up again.

“You did it on purpose?” It was getting worse, clearly Camille now thought of him as some sort of violent monster. 

“No, it was an accident!”

Jamie finally stepped in, aware that perhaps Jules was working herself up a little too much and that any further probing on her part was going to result in him looking just as bad as Richard, after all he had lied in order to spend the entire afternoon in bed with her. 

“Jules, I’m fine and Richard’s sorry. I mean it’s not like I’ve never hit him before.” Jules huffed a little. 

“Fine.” She disappeared to the bar in order to calm down and Camille followed her, probably in the hope to soothe the situation a little. 

Richard was looking at his brother. “You have to calm her down a bit, you make me look bad and I’ll do the same to you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. She didn’t take the news well, she’s worried about baby stuff.” 

Richard nodded. He could see where she was coming from, he really could, and he didn’t even feel too bad about getting a dressing down from Jules, it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. He was however, more concerned about looking bad in front of Camille. He changed the angle of his vision and looked over at her. She caught his eye almost immediately and gave him a highly disapproving look. Jules had clearly filled her in about the baby stuff.

He turned back to his brother. “It seems she’s just filled Camille in on my antics this afternoon. My recently revitalised sex life is now in tatters again.”

“Oh come on it’s not that bad.” 

“You don’t know Camille.”

“You’ll be fine. I don’t know what Jules is so upset about anyway it’s not like we had any trouble this afternoon - ”

Richard help up his hands, “I don’t want to know, go and fix it.”

Jamie slid out of his chair and sidled over to the bar changing places with Camille who stalked back to the table considerably more worked out than when she had left it. 

She didn’t give him a chance to say anything as she threw herself down in the chair. “Did you know they were trying for a baby?” 

“Oh sure, I knew, and then I hit my brother in the balls.” She looked at him in disbelief. He thought he should clarify the situation. “No, of course I didn’t know.”

“Why did you do it then?”

Richard sighed. “He just wouldn’t stop going on about us, asking all these stupid questions, and just, well...it’s none of his business! I’m sorry.” 

“Is it so bad that he wants to know?”

“It’s not just that he wants to know, he wants to know everything! It’s private and I don’t want to share that, I don’t want to share you.”

Her hands reached for his face, the need for discretion temporarily forgotten. “You don’t have to share me and you don’t have to tell him everything but he is your brother and you see him once a year. He’s also leaving tomorrow so perhaps it’s for the best if you try not to argue for 24 more hours...” The corner of Richard’s lip twitched in acknowledgement. 

He saw her eyes flick over his shoulder and the removal of her hand followed swiftly. “We’re being watched.”

“Oh for God’s sake.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so interesting about us.” 

“Perhaps they just care Richard.”

“Or perhaps they’re just nosy.”

“Well, maybe they wouldn’t be so nosy if they didn’t think we were hiding anything.” He looked vaguely terrified at the prospect of letting people into his private life. 

“So...I was thinking that maybe we could make it official? After all, Jamie knows, and Jules knows...”

“How does Jules know?” 

“Because Jamie has probably told her...” 

“I asked him not to say anything.” 

“And, I saw her earlier.” He was amazed at how easily she had slipped in with his family. “Look, my point is that if Jamie and Jules both know, and my mother knows, which means your mother probably knows, and Lucie definitely suspects, then what are we hiding?”

He bit the inside of his lip weighing up his options drawing the same conclusion as her that it was indeed pointless to try and keep this hidden. He leant forward and kissed her quickly on the cheek. 

Her look said it all. He knew she’d been hoping for a much bigger reveal. 

He sensed her disappointment. “It worked didn’t it.” She glanced back over his shoulder and saw both their mothers grinning like idiots, despite the naivety of the kiss, pretending they were deep in conversation. “Besides, I’ll give you a proper kiss later...”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of a filler (well in my view anyway), but I'm keen to do a sequel so I have to lay some ground work here...we're nearly there too, it feels as if its been ages doesn't it!

Richard’s small display of affection had done wonders to ease the mood between them.  He marvelled at how easy it was becoming to pacify her.   Up until now he had tried to keep his emotions inaccessible to her, afraid of what she might pry out of him, but he was beginning to learn that the opposite would ensure her good mood with him.  He reckoned he had about five more minutes before the others were due at the table to get something else off his chest. [Rich Text](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1163806/chapters/3417188#) 

“Um, just before the others come back...”

“Yes..." 

“I thought we might need to talk about something...”  Her face paled a little and he realised that she might have the wrong end of the stick.  He moved quickly to reassure her.  “It’s not bad.  Well, I mean...no, not bad, just, well I just wanted to check something with you as we haven’t really discussed it.”

The look she was giving him suggested that he had better bloody well hurry up with it as her patience was running out – his openness clearly wasn’t being rewarded this time. 

He ploughed on, “it’s just every time we’ve...” He paused again, unable to work out whether he should say the words _made love_ or _had sex..._ he wasn’t sure what was entirely appropriate.  He settled on a rather bland, “been together, we haven’t used any um...well, anything really.  And I just wondered if that was intentional, or if it’s my fault, or if you’ve already taken care of it....”

She smiled teasingly.  “Intentional?” 

He realised what he had just accused her of and reddened slightly.  “I’m not saying that’s bad,” she raised an eyebrow at this and his blush deepened.  “I mean...”  He began to flounder aware that if he reinforced or contested his statement then he would be digging himself into a very large hole, and that was something he most definitely didn’t want to do.  He took a deep breath and then wisely said no more, grateful at least that his mind had taken control of his mouth on this occasion.

“Are you trying to talk about contraception Richard?”  He nodded his ascent, a little embarrassed that he hadn’t been able to vocalise his question as well as he had wanted to.  She took a deep breath, “well, I’m on the pill, I’ve been on it for a while...”  She was watching him, worried that he would think that she usually used this as her main source of contraception “my periods aren’t regular so...” 

A look of confusion flitted across his face for a moment, unsure of why they were now discussing periods.  He finally understood what she was talking about.  “Oh!  Oh, that’s fine.”  His bashfulness took over again as he tried to shut the conversation down, clearing his throat, trying to instigate a new topic of conversation.  “Um, we really don’t have to talk about it anymore, if you don’t want to, I just wanted to check that we were ok, that I wasn’t in any trouble...”

She smiled gleefully again at his discomfort in discussing something so personal.  “Why would you be in trouble?”

“In case you wanted me be more assertive...  I mean it’s usually up to the man isn’t it?”

She laughed.  “You know, I can’t work out if it’s sweet that you have such old fashioned views on sex or if it’s totally unacceptable that you are so wildly out of date.” He held his breath, willing her to think the first.

If Richard had thought the conversation over, then Camille had other ideas, feeling the need to clarify her choice of contraception.  “You know, I don’t usually rely on the pill, I just thought in this instance it would be ok.  I didn’t really think that you wouldn’t be the type of guy to sleep around...” 

He gave a little huff of amusement at her statement, aware of how correctly she had read him from the beginning.  The truth of the matter was that after his last relationship had ended he hadn’t exactly been the world’s greatest lothario.  Well actually, he hadn’t been anything close to a lothario.  He only hoped that she hadn’t thought him out of practice. 

“So are you ok with still being on the pill, or would um, something else be better...”

She laughed at how Richard seemed unable to use the word _condom._ “The pill’s ok with me, if it’s ok with you?”

“Yes of course, it’s your choice really isn’t it?”  The look she levelled at him gave him the impression that she didn’t exactly concur with this statement, but she chose not to argue.  “I mean, you can always change if you want to, if you find your mood swings are getting worse or you’re getting more angry than usual...”  The fond smile that she had recently bestowed on him was rapidly changing into something else and Richard had never been more grateful to see his brother winding his way back through the bar towards their table. 

***

Jamie sidled back to his seat with Jules and Lucie following close behind.  “You look serious.”

Richard made a monumental effort to cover and said the first thing that popped into his mind.  “No not really, just talking about the wedding.”

“Who’s wedding?”  Jamie’s meaning was clear from the gleam in his eye. 

“ _Your_ wedding.”  Richard planted a well intentioned kick underneath the table for his brother’s effort and was delighted when he could barely able to conceal his yelp of pain.  He received a glare from Jules in light of the earlier violence he had instilled against him. 

“Oh God, really, we’re talking about this already?”  This particular comment earned him a punch from Jules, who clearly was allowed to hit him, even if Richard wasn’t.  “Ow!”

“Do you have a problem talking about our wedding?”

“Nope, no problem.  Can’t wait.  Really excited to talk about napkins.  And flowers.  And cutlery.  And guest lists.”  Jules bit back a smile.  “And I know that Richard’s particularly looking forward to seeing Aunt Matilda again...”

Richard groaned and Camille’s curiosity was piqued.  “Who’s Aunt Matilda?”

“Dad’s aunt.  She’s pretty touchy feely.”

Camille made a face that quite clearly said she didn’t think it was appropriate for his aunt, great or not, to touch him inappropriately. 

“Well that’s ok, I’ll be with you, she won’t do it if I’m there.”  All three of them opposite her raised an eyebrow as Camille realised she’d just asked herself to the wedding of a couple she’d known for a little under a week.  Apparently none of them seemed to notice or care, Aunt Matilda posed other problems. 

“Camille, no offense but she probably won’t even register we’re together.  Most likely she’ll hand you her coat and tell you to bring her a glass of champagne with her ticket.” 

“Seriously?”

“She’s just a bit, um...different.  Eccentric.”

“So she’ll think I’m a waitress?”

“Probably.  Or, you know, she might think we’re on a case together.”

“A case?”

“Well, she knows I work in the Caribbean and she kind of has old fashioned views...”

Jamie coughed the word “racist,” while Richard narrowed his eyes and glared at him.

Camille glowered.  “Is that designed to boost my confidence?  The fact that your racist great aunt won’t pay attention to me?”

It was Jamie’s turn to try and placate her.  “To be fair Camille, we’ve all spent years trying to be ignored by her; you should probably consider it a blessing.  And, you shouldn’t feel too left out as you’ll probably get felt up by the rest of our weird elderly non racist relatives. 

Richard bristled at the implied slight that he wouldn’t be able to protect her from the crinkly skinned caresses of the plethora of elderly neighbours and relatives who would no doubt have to attend the reception but privately agreed that this might indeed be the case.  He shivered at the image of an aged hand on the small of her back guiding her on to the dance floor, roaming lower in time to the music while she shot him a look of full of pleading and disgust.  He would dance every song if he had to, if it meant keeping her to himself.

Jules came to her rescue.  “Don’t worry Camille, I’ve already encountered the majority of them.   They’re pretty easy to handle once you know what you’re doing.  You basically have to call them perverts to their faces; they’ll laugh it off but be paranoid that their wives have heard.  It’s actually pretty easy, it’s just about timing.”

“Apart from Uncle Gerald.”

Camille looked at Lucie, then at Richard and Jamie but neither seemed non plussed by her comment about Uncle Gerald.  Lucie continued, “Uncle Gerald is the sweetest yet sweatiest man in existence.  Under no circumstance should you be charmed into agreeing to dance with him.  It’s like he’s just got out of the shower.”   Camille grinned.   “Seriously Camille, the man steams in the night air... 

The boys were now desperately trying to cover their giggles.

“It’s almost enough to make you not want to come isn’t it?”

Camille smiled sweetly.  “Almost, but given Richard’s idiosyncrasies I think I’ll be able to handle them...”

“I don’t have any idiosyncrasies and I certainly don’t steam in the night air.”

“Really.  No quirks?  No odd habits?”  He narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her as Camille warmed up to deliver her coup de gras.  “Do you see anyone else on this island wearing a suit?”  This was answered with his customary grumbling.  “You never even take your jacket off, which is ridiculous because it’s not as if your shirts aren’t pristinely ironed.”

Lucie cut in again.  “Where _do_ you get your predilection for ironing from Ratty?”

“I don’t have a predilection for ironing!”  His tone had risen perceptibly and Camille was beginning to see how much fun baiting Richard could actually be when there was a pro in charge.  She was also beginning to think how much the name Ratty suited him, but was inwardly debating if it would be strange for her to use a family nickname.  She thought she could probably get away with it.  Her stream of subconscious ended as she came back into the conversation. 

“So you no longer iron your boxer shorts?”

“That is completely irrelevant.”  He was spluttering now.  “Anyway, it’s hygienic!”

“No having clean underwear is hygienic.  Ironing your boxers is OCD.”

“I do not have OCD.”

“Surely _you_ must have noticed Camille...?”  Camille choked on her drink as she realised that the latest comment had been directed at her and looked up to find Lucie smiling wickedly at her.  She glanced over at Richard only to see that he was studiously ignoring her.  Camille in turn couldn’t bring herself to look at Lucie, mainly because she was too embarrassed to admit that she hadn’t noticed whether they were ironed or not in her haste to get them off. 

When she did finally look up she could see that he three of them were biting back laughter in front of her while Richard was scowling in return.  Lucie to her credit looked a little chastened, although the apology when it came wasn’t completely sincere.

“I’m sorry Camille.  It’s just so easy.”

She laughed.  “Only because he’s too nice to retaliate.”   She glanced over at Richard only to see him mumble something and get to his feet in search of the bar.  Clearly even though he was happy to commit to their relationship in public, compliments in any form were still too much for him to accept graciously. 

***

A couple of hours later they stood awkwardly on the pavement outside.  The last night for his family had meant that both had been subjected to gentle teasing all evening.  This had resulted in Richard seeking regular solace in alcohol as a way of coping, allowing Camille to become bolder in her affections towards him. 

But despite her regular caresses under the table here he was, still unsure of how to approach the question of taking her home, and beginning to wonder if she even wanted to come home with him. 

Her voice broke the silence.  “So...the Rover’s here and we’re both too drunk to drive.” 

He nodded but clearly still felt too embarrassed to assume that he would be welcome back at hers. 

“Oh for goodness sake!”  Her patience finally ran out as she made a grab for his hand solving the problem for both of them and setting a punishing pace in the direction of her house.  It was all Richard could do to keep up...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M rating! Probably best not to read on the bus...

She deposited him in her bedroom, silently implying that she needed a moment to “freshen up”. Richard had never understood what this meant, feeling that it slightly ruined the moment more than anything but was willing to wait any amount of time for her, even if all she wanted to do was sleep. After the admissions of the day to both Camille and his brother he was pretty tired himself and couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with her. He had half a mind to take his clothes off and clamber between her sheets without waiting, but wasn’t really sure on the etiquette of the situation, he didn’t want to be seen as too forward. He didn’t think they were at the stage yet where he could make himself at home in her own house, especially as this was the first time he had been allowed in her bedroom. He cast his eyes around the room and studied the pictures of her with Catherine, the team and friends. He hoped one day that there would be one of the two of them. The movement in the door way pulled him from his thoughts and caught his attention. 

His tiredness vanished in an instance. “Is that my mac?” 

“Uh huh.” She was holding the collar, running her fingers up and down the lapel, finally coming to rest above her collar bones where her pose pulled the front of the coat apart, revealing a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage underneath. 

Richard swallowed. “Why are you wearing my mac? 

“Well, I’ve never seen you wear it and I thought it could do with an airing...don’t you like it on me?” She advanced on him, pushing him back against the foot of the bed which he wordlessly fell onto. He put his elbows out to try and brace his fall, crawling back against his pillows before ending up half lying and half sitting up. He watched as she climbed on top of the bed, crawling up his body, coming to rest on top of him, straddling him, his coat still tightly done up around her. 

She sat up on top of him and began to loosen the belt around her waist. “If you don’t like it on me Richard then I can take it off...” The belt fell loose and the coat bagged a little, revealing more thigh and more cleavage. He was lost for words, but his arms had seemed to take on a life of their own.

He was caressing her calves, registering for the first time that he wasn’t touching bare skin. Camille took in the look of confusion on his face and gave him a sly smile. His puzzlement continued as his hands and fingers moved up over her knees and over his thighs, gaining enlightenment as he reached the top of the nylon and encountered elastic. His eyes, which before were locked onto her torso and the legs that were currently under his touch, suddenly snapped up to hers, not quite daring to ask her to confirm what he suspected. 

She wanted to laugh at the lust she now saw in his face, the hardness of him as it increased beneath her. She ground herself down onto him, saw him close his eyes a little and felt the roll of his hips in response.

“Do you want to see?” He nodded mutely and as his hand moved up higher still she helped the coat bag a little more. 

“Where...”

“Jules asked me to go shopping with her. I thought I might treat myself to something new too. Do you like it?” 

He ran his fingers over the swell of her breasts and her cleavage by way of a reply, taking in the scalloping of the material barely hiding her modesty, understanding the delicacy of the thing he was touching without really comprehending the workmanship that had gone in to it. His hands moved up to the top of her arms to the silk straps that seemed to be holding it all together somehow. He flicked one of the straps off her shoulder, half hoping that material would give way and slide off all together. But the boning of her bra held fast and clung to her rib cage, even if the demi cup began to fail at its job and the blush of a nipple appeared. 

The coat slid from her shoulders a little revealing more silky flesh and Richard’s breathing quickened exponentially. He tried to pull her to him, but she resisted, knowing full well that as soon as she leant down to kiss him she would find herself on her back. He sat up awkwardly and tried again, bringing his face to hers, his hands roving up her neck, feeling some semblance of control just by holding her there. 

She gently broke their kiss and pushed him back a little. “So do you want me to take them off?” He shook his head and his hands slid back down cupping her gently and on down further still towards her very brief French lace briefs. He slipped two fingers in the side seam and tugged, Camille understood what he was trying to do and stopped him, giggling. 

“Not these ones Richard. I’m not sure you’d want to buy me new ones.” 

He frowned a little, unsure of what she meant. Of course he would buy her new ones, and would have done it happily too because it meant he could enjoy them all over again. The more logical side of his brain took over slowly putting the pieces together drawing the conclusion that these must have been very expensive. He felt equal amounts of guilt and excitement at the thought.

He started to panic that she didn’t want him at all, that her outfit was just to tease him. His words tumbled out as a way to reassure her that she was all he wanted. “But I want to make love to you.” 

She smiled coyly at him. “Is that what you want Richard, to make love to me?” He coloured slightly which only made her want to tease him more. “Because that’s definitely not what I had in mind for tonight.” His blush deepened, feeling a little emasculated by her confidence. What was he meant to tell her? He thought he knew, but he’d never been very good at dirty talk, lacking the confidence required to pull it off. His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth. 

Laughing, she leant down towards him and trailed a finger along his chest and whispered. “Relax. I just want you to enjoy it. I bought them for you.” She pushed his hands away and laced her fingers through his making sure that they stayed away from her. She leant forward and let what remained of the coat fall away. Sitting upright again he took in the complete view of her. Perhaps it was early days in their relationship, but he still felt that he would never tire of this. It wasn’t just her toned torso or her long legs which were currently settled either side of him that he loved so much; but her vivaciousness, her laughter, the teasing he now saw in her eyes. 

He was brought out of his daze by the feeling of Camille’s fingers on the buttons on his shirt, pushing the cotton away from his skin, baring his chest to her touch. Richard was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of her lips burning a trail over the plains of his chest down the contours of his abdomen, following the smattering of hair all the way down to the waistband of his trousers.

He realised that he had been holding his breath, almost too afraid to breathe in case she might stop if he disturbed her in any way. He took a much needed gasp of air as she adjusted her position to give her more space to remove his belt and undo his trousers. 

He lifted his hips to encourage her to remove them entirely but she ignored him and leant forward again. Her intentions were now abundantly clear to him. 

“Camille, you don’t have to.” Her only response was to smile at him and continue. “Camille, please.” He was almost desperate to stop her before she started, to give him a break, a chance to calm down.

She had released him from his boxers now, revelling in the power that she had in her hands. She sat back again, stroking him and watched the expressions on his face change. It amused her to think that he was expending so much of his control on this when she wanted so much more for him. Without releasing him she put her mouth to the head of him and looked up in time to see the balling of his fists, hear his quick intake of breath as she took him in further adding her tongue. She was rewarded with an almost incoherent cry and after what felt like only a few moments, the feel of his hands in her hair. To her surprise though, they were pushing her away rather than encouraging her on. 

“You have to stop, I won’t last. Please.” She at least understood that and shooting him a triumphant look, she moved back until she was sitting on him again. When he reached for her this time she wasn’t expecting it and he was able to slip his hand underneath her. She tried to bat it away and when she looked at him it was initially to remind him that he wasn’t meant to be touching her. But she found that his lust was mixed with concern. 

When he spoke it almost came out as a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She nodded, secretly annoyed that he didn’t trust her to know her own body. But she let him all the same, raising her hips and moving gently against him, marvelling at the look of surprise he gave her when it became quite apparent that she was more than ready. She was fumbling now, the need to make this just about him subsiding with the rush of adrenaline now coursing through her. She took hold of him again and shifted her weight until she was poised above him, confused when he stopped her again. She flashed back to Friday night when he had done the same thing. Perhaps he didn’t like the idea of her being on top at all.

Her fears were soon allayed when he gasped at her to remove his trousers, Camille disposing of them quickly, while Richard took care of his shirt. She was about to reach for her own clothing when he stopped her with a sly grin. “No leave them on.”

She raised her hips again and this time he didn’t stop her but instead swept the underside of her knickers out of the way to allow for his entry. They were both under no apprehension that it was going to be anything other than quick. They didn’t need a build up, but never the less he was surprised at the voracity of feeling that overwhelmed him when she lowered herself on to him. It was going to be faster than he originally thought. 

She was aware that he was already on the edge, and that it was too late to try and slow the pace by stopping. She tried to keep her weight off him, not taking him in completely in an effort to desensitise him. 

It had the opposite effect. 

Spurred on by the need to be deeper inside her he sat up and she shifted slightly, her legs mirroring the position of his arms which were now encircling her. Relief flooded through him as the sensation and pressure from before lessened a little and the friction he felt subsided to a dull throb. Richard was amazed at how quickly they had both found a rhythm to suit them both, not just at this moment but at every other up to now, how well suited they were. She leant back and used her hands against his thighs to give her extra leverage, pushing harder and faster into him. 

“Oh God Richard.”

The view he had of her, her back arched away from him, her head tilted back was no longer enough, he needed to see more of her. He moved one hand and deftly undid the clasp of her bra causing her breasts to finally fall free, covering her with his mouth. She threw it to the floor impatiently then reached behind her searching for his thighs again to pick up the pace once more. 

Richard was now less worried about embarrassing himself but the thought suddenly occurred to him that Camille had lacked any serious attention up until now. He tried to reach between them but she was too close. Her movements became almost feverish, it was all Richard could do to hang on in every sense.

“I’m close. Camille, I can’t...I can’t...” He buried his face in her neck, screwed his eyes shut and held on for all he was worth, knowing that one more glance at her would send him over the edge. It was in vain, he could feel her hold ups rubbing against him, the image he already had of her popped back into his head unbidden, as lifelike as the woman currently on top of him. 

“Fuck!” He pulled her down on top of him hard, burying himself inside her as he lost control, opening his mouth and muffling his cries against her skin. 

Coming back to reality he found himself kissing her neck, her face still upturned to the ceiling. He drew her in close and pressed his mouth to his ear whispering the beginnings of an apology, to try and atone for his own pleasure and his lack of achievement regarding hers.

She stroked his face, sighed with satisfaction and gave a shrug. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters to me.”

“I know.” She kissed him quickly, then, after a little shuffling fell on top of him and rolled into his side, still breathing heavily. “You can make it up to me later if you like.”

He grinned and pulled her close. “Do you have any idea how insatiable that makes you sound?” She giggled and Richard couldn’t help himself. “God, I love you so much.” 

The giggling stopped abruptly as the realisation of what he’d just said sunk in for them both. They lay in silence just looking at each other. But before she had a chance to say anything he had released her and was pushing himself away. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I, um, I need to get some water.” She nodded mutely as he slid on his boxers, desperate to hold onto him but unsure of how to stop him. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

In the kitchen he hit his head several times against the kitchen cupboard above the sink and silently berated himself. What the hell had he been thinking? Jamie was right, it was too soon. Way too soon. That much had been clear from the look on her face and her complete and utter failure to say anything in return, even an acknowledgement of some kind. He flashed back to his first admission of love during his teenage years which had resulted in a polite ‘thank you.’ He wasn’t sure whether this was any better. 

He waited for the water to cool with his eyes closed, his head still leant against the unit above him wishing time to somehow realign and wipe his mind of the memory he’d just created. 

In time he heard her behind him and made an effort to keep things light. “Water’s just coming!” 

He filled the glasses and was about to turn when he felt her arms around him and her lips at his neck. 

“Camille...” He dropped his head to watch her hands as stroked his chest. “Please...” He was trying to think of a way to tell her that he didn’t need her pity, that, on the whole he was fine, excepting the embarrassment, but he felt her breath in his ear before he could string a coherent sentence together. 

“I love you too.” 

Her fingertips were still brushing his skin and they continued to stand, Richard revelling in their closeness and her confession. All too soon he felt her hands leave him and turned around in an effort to gauge the level of her seriousness. She had clearly thought her attire from earlier inappropriate for the rest of the house so had taken the liberty of using his discarded shirt. Her long legs, he noted, were still clad in hold ups, and his shirt buttons, undone far further than he would ever have deemed suitable on himself, had also been done up haphazardly, flashing an extra glimpse of thigh on one side. She was proving to be too much of a temptation and he was having difficulty tearing his eyes off her as he took a step towards her. He was suddenly holding on to her for dear life. She seemed to understand that he needed her and they stood there, entwined in each other. 

“Say it again.”

“Say what?” She giggled and the look she received told her that now was not the time to tease him. Her eyes softened as she smiled and shrugged quickly, aware of how much this meant to him. To both of them. “I love you too.”

He nodded, he supposed out of relief more than anything and closed what little space was left between them, holding her face between his hands as he lowered his lips to hers. 

It was Camille who broke the kiss, smiling teasingly. “Nice boxers by the way. Beautifully ironed.”  
   
He laughed, kissing her. “Well I think you’ll find that’s my area of expertise...”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not your only area though...” 

He grinned and scooped her back up again.


	21. Chapter 21

Richard woke to an assault on his senses. The sunlight streaming through the crack in her curtains, the feel of her hair against his cheek, the smell of her perfume and the sensation of her skin against his. He studied the back of her head, his eyes moving over the tight curls from tip to scalp, memorising the way it fell on the pillow and the vague scent of her shampoo . He had been too preoccupied with the excitement of waking up with her yesterday morning to take any of it in. He placed a soft kiss behind her ear causing Camille to stir and press herself into his warmth. She murmured but didn’t wake. He smiled to himself, relishing the feel of her body against his and the reaction she had on it. He gently slid the arm covering her away and propped himself up in bed to get a better look at her. He thought he knew every inch of her, her skin tones, the dimples around her mouth, the line of her eyebrows. He could recreate her perfectly when he closed his eyes, indeed her image had been tormenting him for months now, both day and night. But he’d never been as free to study her as he was now. 

Her eyelashes, beautiful and dark, were still coated with a small amount of mascara which had clumped together a little forming tiny blobs to sit on the lashes themselves. They fluttered against the hollow of her eye, and he saw for the first time, the beginnings of small laughter lines that were starting to crease their way on to her skin. He raised his eyes to her forehead and noticed the lines that also lightly brushed her brow. He had seen her frown at him often enough but never really realised that the action aimed so specifically at him would mark her skin. Not that they were deep. Not yet. The corners of his mouth twitched when he thought about how much deeper they would get, how much aggravation he would cause her over the course of their relationship. The thought of her laughter lines caused him to look at her mouth. More recently he had found himself watching her lips as she spoke, wrenching his eyes back to hers before she noticed that he wasn’t paying full attention to her. Her lips were beautifully full. He wanted to wake her so that he could kiss that tantalising pink blush that lay almost hidden from view but instead consoled himself with tracing the outline of them with his eyes unable to break the spell of sleep just yet.

He wondered what she was dreaming of and as he watched she began to stir, her lips parting a little. He thought of what those lips had done to him over the past couple of days and was on the verge of kissing her when she emitted the smallest of snores. 

Richard tried desperately to keep himself from laughing, but his muted giggles began to manifest themselves as shakes. His body wracked with them. In an effort to stop them he took deep breaths and rolled onto his back, planting his hands prayer like over his mouth before it was too late. If he hadn’t been watching he would have been certain that Camille would have been incapable to making a noise like that. But she was human after all! He suddenly became intensely aware that from now on he would be privy to her every foible and was profoundly grateful for it. 

As time ticked by he began to grow bored. It felt un-gentlemanly to wake her, especially after the way she had fallen asleep, almost immediately after they had finished making love, practically mid sentence. Instead he lay there for a moment revelling in the simple pleasure of feeling alive again before an idea suddenly struck him and he slid quietly from her bed and padded out of the bedroom. 

Camille woke to feel cold air on her back where Richard had left the sheets sagging around her. In her grogginess she tried pushing herself back a little to find him, hoping to find the comfort of an arm, a leg or chest. Grogginess turned to confusion when she realised he wasn’t there. She sat up to see that his clothes were still on the floor and expelled the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. He hadn’t left. Her eyelids were still heavy, she could quite easily have fallen back to sleep again content in the knowledge that he would come back to her, but some part of her brain was active enough to highlight the fact that the house was silent, that she needed to investigate his whereabouts. 

Rising, she picked her way through the detritus that they had created the night before, stopping in the corridor. She was beginning to worry a little when the sound of water drew her to the bathroom. She paused outside the door, debating whether to disturb him or not, or even if she wanted to. Now that she knew where he was she could easily return to bed and wait for him. She knocked, resting her knuckles on the door, waiting. 

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a long pause where she wondered if she should just go in before he finally replied. “If you like.”

She put her head around the door. He was lying in a bath with his eyes closed. “What are you doing?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” 

If he had bothered to open his eyes, he would have seen the familiar sight of her arms crossed and eyebrow crooked at him. “I thought you didn’t want to have a bath at mine.”

“I changed my mind.” 

“Do you want some company?” 

He sighed. “Camille, there are some things which are sacred, and a man’s bath is...” His protest trailed off when he heard something fall on the floor followed by the water splashing. As his eyes opened the more coherent part of his brain told reminded him that there was a very beautiful and very naked woman getting into his bath. As far as views went he thought it was a pretty good one for an early Sunday morning and had to restrain his hands from moving of their own volition to steady her as she clambered in. 

“Move up Richard!” He was admonished for his gawping and mumbled his apologies trying to shift backwards. But his skin stuck to the bottom of the bath, making the process stuccatoed and slow. She wriggled into position between his legs and leant back against his chest which was now out of the water. Any sudden change in temperature that he felt was tempered by the warmth of her back against his skin. His hands found hers automatically over the top of her shoulders creating a protective v around the front of her neck. 

The water swirled then settled around them. The drip of a tap punctuated the silence, but still neither spoke, wallowing in the echoed quiet of the bathroom. Camille pushed back into him further relishing his contact, not seeing the initial brief frown at the further invasion of his space dissipate into a small smile of acceptance. 

“You know, I haven’t had a bath for ages.” Richard made the appropriate noise of interest, too comfortable to enter fully into the conversation. “I’d forgotten how nice it is.” As way of a response Richard bent his head forward and settled a kiss in her hair. She turned his hand over in hers in response, studying his skin. “You’re getting wrinkly.”

“Thanks very much.” 

“I mean your fingertips.”

“I know.” 

She was half way through asking him why he would be deliberately obtuse when she was shushed from behind. She sensed that this was his moment of calm and although determined to allow him to enjoy it knew that it also presented an ideal opportunity for a discussion, especially one he couldn’t run away from given that she was holding him prisoner in the water. 

“Richard?” 

“Camille.” Her name was a resigned sigh. All hopes for a peaceful bath had now vanished, he was idly beginning to entertain thoughts of asking her to leave, he was here first after all, when she cut into his thoughts again.

She paused before thinking better of it. “Nothing.” 

He sighed. He had enough experience with women to know that when one of them said the word “nothing” then it was definitely something. It had just been a long time since he had cared enough to get anyone to open up to him. 

“Tell me.”

“No. It’s just...I just. I was just thinking about the future.” For someone that was usually so forthright about her feelings she was having difficulty expressing them.

“Ok...”

She interpreted his curt reply as lack of interest. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Come on, of course it matters.” He pulled her closer. 

Buoyed up by his concern she tried again. “I was just wondering what you think Dwayne and Fidel will say.”

“I’m not sure they’ll say anything to me.” Even with her back to him she could tell he had that crooked smile on his face. “There might be a couple of raised eyebrows and Dwayne might insinuate something, but otherwise I think they’ll leave me alone.” He realised somewhere along the way that that wasn’t really the answer she wanted to hear. “Do you want them to make more of a fuss?”

She shrugged. “It’s just...this is a big deal for me. For us. I don’t know what I want but I know I’ll be annoyed if they make a big deal out of it because I don’t want to draw attention to us for work. And I also know that if they don’t acknowledge it I’ll get annoyed too. I just feel I can’t win. 

He scrunched up his nose in contemplation. There didn’t really seem to be anything that he could say. Thankfully she seemed to realise that. He opted for the tried and tested method of massaging her shoulders. 

“I’m sorry. I know I’m rambling.”

“I’m used to it.” She pretended outrage and pinched his leg lightly making him chuckle. 

They both fell into contemplative silence again, mulling over the different scenarios that the future and their colleague’s new knowledge presented. Nearly all of them involved some sort of embarrassing situation for Richard and it was this that made him speak up. “You know, if it all gets too much we can always run away to London together.” 

She couldn’t work out if he was serious or not. “To Croydon?” 

“If you like.”

“Where else would you take me.” 

“Clackton if you’re lucky.”

She mulled Clackton over as a possibility, her top lip hitching up as she dismissed it. “And what if I don’t like Croydon?” 

“Tough. I’m still paying off the mortgage.” 

She giggled. “What’s Croydon like?” 

He wasn’t sure how to describe normality, or if it even was normality any more. “Pretty boring really. Houses. High streets. Grey skies. Everything runs on time. You wouldn’t like it.” Even as he said it, the wishful idea of everything running on time brought an unbidden smile to his face.

“Well maybe you can show me this miracle of timeliness sometime.” 

“I might when we’re over for Jamie’s wedding.” 

“You know you haven’t invited me yet...” 

“That’s because we don’t know when it is yet.” He paused, debating whether to tease her or not. “And because I’m keeping my options open.” He earned himself another hit. He smiled and kissed her again. “And if I’m not mistaken you’ve already invited yourself...”

She pursed her lips together in guilt remembering the previous night and wondered if she’d pushed for too much too soon. He said nothing more though so she raised one leg in front of her and then the other in response, examining them in the muted bathroom light while she mulled over another question. 

“Where will they get married?” 

He was finally beginning to relax again his voice sounding drowsy. “Probably at Jules’ parents. They live near us in Leicestershire.” 

“So, will we stay at your parent’s house?” 

“I should think so. Is that ok?” He was beginning to think that actually that wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. There was too much there that he would rather Camille not see; the pictures and memories from his childhood; not to mention the general clutter that liberally littered his parent’s house. His eyes widened in horror as he remembered the hoarding that he had left behind. He frantically tried to backtrack. “Or we could stay in a hotel...” 

She roundly ignored his last comment, also thinking of his parent’s house, imagining his childhood bedroom. There might not be anything to find there that would help her learn about the closed off man she now knew she loved. Perhaps his parents had moved his possessions out entirely, but she somehow doubted it after meeting his mother, even if his room was clear it was probably all stored in the attic. She subconsciously pulled him closer, holding his hands against her, unaware of the effect the feel of her wet skin was now having on him, until - 

“Richard?” 

He knew what she was going to say and pre-empted her sheepishly. “Sorry. If it’s any consolation I can’t help it. You’re naked, wet and on top of me.” 

She half turned her head to look at him. “I’m not saying I mind, I was just thinking about the logistics...”

He too was thinking of the small space that they were currently sharing. “Well, I mean, you’re very welcome to try whatever comes to mind...” She didn’t respond in the way that he had hoped. Instead she got out of the bath and he started to panic at her sudden departure. “Or you could just leave me in here. On my own...”

She had already grabbed a towel and was almost out of the door trailing it behind her. “Relax Richard, that’s just too small for what I have in mind.”

He almost slipped on the wet floor in his haste to follow her.


	22. Chapter 22

It was early afternoon when she finally woke again and this time she was definitely alone. Alongside the silence was a curt note on her bedside table informing her that he was having lunch with his family before they left and that she should join them when she was up. She couldn’t help feeling disappointment at its succinctness, frustration at its lack of emotion and most of all annoyance at the fact that he hadn’t woken her up. But she took comfort in the fact that he still wanted her there at all. 

She showered and dressed quickly, aware that lunch might nearly be over and that his family were on a late afternoon flight. It was at the door that she bent down to pick up a flyer that had come through the letterbox earlier that day, twisting slightly to throw it in the bin. She straightened up and was on the verge of stepping outside when she stopped and looked at the bin again. Despite having emptied it the day before there were several scrunched up balls of paper in the bottom. She stooped to pick one of them up, carefully trying to flatten it out again without ripping it and smiled as she read it, then reached for the others and did the same. 

They were all from Richard, variations on the note that he had left her. The feeling of rejection that she had felt earlier vanished in an instant as she read his several attempts at romance. He’d obviously been struggling with how to address her judging from the pieces of paper in her hand and the deep score marks across the paper that served as vents to his frustration. She folded them carefully and put them away in her desk drawer, aware that he might never be gregarious enough with his emotions to ever express them as fully to her as his short notes had and determined to hold on to what little she was given, whatever form it took. 

She arrived just as they were finishing coffee, to hearty hellos and various forms of teasing from all except his father who looked vaguely bemused by the excitement that her arrival had caused and the explanation she gave for her fatigue. Richard as usual managed a shy smile then studiously avoided catching her eye, turning a beautiful shade of vermilion when she purposefully strode up to him, kissed him on the cheek and sat down next to him, to much hooting and cheering. 

All too soon she found herself outside their hotel watching Richard’s goodbyes with his family: the fussing of his mother, the handshake for his father, the double kiss for his almost sister in law and the hug from Lucie. For all her teasing she was clearly going to miss him the most, hanging on to her brother for as long as he would let her before he gave her one last squeeze and pushed her away gently. But it was the awkward goodbye with his brother that interested her the most. They seemed unsure of how to say goodbye beyond nodding at each other. A handshake seemed too formal for them both but a hug too intimate. She watched as they finally managed something in between before the repressed Englishman in each of them reared its ugly head and they became incapable of looking at each other. 

The goodbyes with Camille were much easier and much noisier, perhaps to make up for the more subdued feeling that had fallen on their little gathering. It was his father again who made no effort to hold her in an embrace, finding it almost embarrassing to be kissing another woman other than his wife. It endeared her to him even more because it reminded her so strongly of Richard.

All too soon they were piled into a taxi with his mother shouting last minute instructions at them from the window. 

“Oh darling, while I remember, I left Rustybottom with Catherine, I wasn’t sure if we were going to see you for lunch.” Camille snuck a quick glance over at Richard, she had no idea who Rustybottom was but she couldn’t wait to find out as he flashed a venomous look at his mother that was designed to get her to stop talking. Luckily for Camille after 40 years of them Annabel was impervious to them. Richard seemed to realise this and instead tried to play it down. 

“I didn’t want....” He took a deep breath and tried to shake the embarrassment away. “Fine, that’s fine.”

“I know you didn’t ask darling, but I thought it might be a nice reminder of home, besides I was clearing out a few things and I thought he was better with you than in the bin.”

Suddenly all thoughts of downplaying this particular conversation went out of the window as he took a step towards her arms out trying desperately to damage control. He glanced behind him as he did so trying to gauge how far away Camille was and how much she could hear. She had tactfully turned her face away from him, apparently giving him privacy but giving her the ideal opportunity to eavesdrop. As he hissed his response at her in frustration, he missed the amused look on her face. “You can’t put him in the bin!”

His mother had no such qualms about keeping her voice down. “I know darling, that’s why I didn’t!”

It could have turned into a full blown argument between the two but thankfully Jules came to his rescue by squeezing herself to the window. “Bye Camille! We’ll see you at the wedding!”

Lucie chimed in, “perhaps you’ll catch the bouquet!” before collapsing into giggles. As they drove away Camille could have sworn that she hear the words ‘wrap up warm’ echo back towards them in the afternoon sun. 

They were barely out of sight when Camille turned to him. “Who’s Rustybottom?”

“Restybottom.” He made the correction before he could stop himself and wrinkled his nose in annoyance at his slip.

“That’s not what your mother said.” Her teasing tone was met by huffy silence. “What is it?” 

He shrugged and tried to ignore the question. Then, panic began to set in, “you don’t think your mother would have opened the bag do you?”

She was beginning to lose patience. “Richard, is this some sort of pet?”

“Why on earth would my mother bring a pet from England?” 

“Well then why wouldn’t you want my mother to see what it is?” He didn’t answer but quickened his step towards the car, climbing in and driving to La Kaz in near silence.  
__________________________________________________________________________________

As luck would have it, Catherine hadn’t opened the bag and they were able to pick it up without too much fuss. His sharp exit was somewhat hampered by Catherine waxing lyrical on his family, which considering the latest predicament that his mother had left him with was somewhat ironic. He felt that he was a little more abrupt than usual when making his excuses but when he was finally released he almost ran for the door. 

Camille caught up with him easily and held out her hand. “Come on then.” She snapped her fingers at the bag. “Now.” 

He frowned at her insubordination before being hit with the sudden realisation that she was no longer being insubordinate. The thought left him a little uneasy about their future together and his tone couldn’t hide the slight worry he now felt. “No, absolutely not.” 

“Richard, you can either give me the bag, or I will take it from you by force...” She made a grab for the bag trying to rip it out of Richard’s hands. 

She was not expecting his reaction. “Stop it. “Then, a little more vehemently “you’ll hurt him.” She stopped instantly. 

“Him?” 

“Oh for God’s sake, can we just go home and then you can have the bag.”

There was a moment of silence while Camille tried to put her thoughts into words. “It’s a teddy bear isn’t it?”

He went very quiet then tried to brazen it out, failing miserably. “Look Camille, my family has finally gone so can we just put aside my ritual humiliation for one day, go home and forget about the bag?” His tone changed from frustration to anger, exploding in his customary manner in the hope that he could still wriggle out away from her accusatory glare. “I didn’t ask my mother to bring him ok? In fact I’m pretty sure he’s been in the attic for the last 20 years.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him which only made him want to try and reinforce the lie. Restybottom had been in Richard’s bedroom at home for as long as he could remember. He would never have let his mother remove him, but there was no way in hell that he was going to let Camille know that. 

He cast his mind’s eye back to his room at home. If Camille was coming back for the wedding, and it seemed likely, then there was a hell of a lot of damage control he was going to have to instigate before they arrived...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek - it looks as though I will be boring you with a sequel. I'm so sorry, this was meant to be a stand alone story which has somehow morphed into a beast I can't control...I promise I'll try and be funnier, more descriptive etc. (although I can't guarantee it).


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